Three
“You’re awfully distracted today,” Anna, one of the waitresses, said as she leaned over the counter while I was elbow deep in bread dough. It was two days after my date and I was trying to lose myself in the morning rush.
“Am I?” I said, looking up into her deep brown eyes which somehow worked with her currently light lavender hair. Said brown eyes narrowed.
“You know you are. Tell Auntie Anna what’s wrong.” Haha. She was about a year younger than I and worked part time at the little library in town and did publicity for authors on the side. Her dream was to move to New York, but internships didn’t pay the bills.
I bit my lip and unstuck my hands from the dough. To tell her or not to tell her . . .
Anna was good with secrets and she was pansexual, so she’d completely understand my feelings about Molly since she’d dated girls before. And guys. And people who weren’t girls or guys. The gender (or lack thereof) of the other person didn’t matter for her. “Equal opportunity,” she said.
“Come on. Take five and talk to me sweets.” I wondered if Jen had put her up to this. She’d asked me about the “date” (that wasn’t a date) and I’d given her vague details. Maybe she thought Anna could pry them out of me.
I sighed. It would really have to be five minutes because I had to get this bread into pans and into the oven before the yeast went nuts.
I scraped the excess dough off my hands and scrubbed in the sink before Anna and I snuck out back. Jen was out for the morning and Sal liked to come in late, so we could pretty much get away with anything. Not that we would. Sal and Jen were the best bosses I’d ever had.
“So, tell me about the girl,” she said, slouching into one of the lawn chairs. This was one of those times when I wished I smoked so I could have something to do other than cross my arms and tap my foot to avoid conversation.
“There’s nothing to tell. She was a friend, she left, she came back, we ate pizza, I made a fool of myself, we ate cheesecake, she went home.” There was a little more to it than that. Molly had texted me a few times, and I hadn’t texted her back yet. Wasn’t there some sort of rule that you had to wait three days after? Oh, that was for a date. Still. It was a thing.
“Uh huhhhh,” Anna said, crossing her arms and raising one eyebrow.
“Shut up. It wasn’t like that. Just because I’m a lesbian, doesn’t mean I’m attracted to every girl.” She snorted.
“Yeah, just because I’m pansexual doesn’t mean I’m attracted to everyone alive,” she countered. I rolled my eyes. “And I’m not saying that because she’s just another girl. She’s the girl. The one that got away.” Now this was getting ridiculous.
“She’s not the girl. She’s a straight girl who I was friends with when we were kids. And then she left and didn’t keep in contact and now I guess she wants to atone for it, or something. I don’t know. I think she’s got some guilt. Whatever. It’s not my problem. I doubt I’m ever going to see her again.” Anna put her hands up.
“Okay, okay. If you say so. But I think you’re going to be eating your words.” She got up and patted my shoulder.
“Just let me know if you need some Auntie Anna advice.” Yeah, that was hilarious. Anna had just had a disastrous breakup with her boyfriend. In the café. In front of everyone. But she was such a good waitress and everyone loved her, so she could pretty much get away with murder.
“Thanks,” I said, waving at her and then holding up one particular finger. She blew me a kiss.
*^*^*
I didn’t eat my words, if that was even possible, but Molly did show up later that day. As if she’d heard us talking about her and had decided to come and ruin my day.
This time Anna was the one who came and got me and said that, quote “a hot girl is asking for you.” I dusted myself off because I knew it would be Molly. Who else would it be? I emerged from the bakery and found her sitting at one of the little corner tables nursing a cup of tea out of one of our huge mugs. Seriously, they were the size of bowls. You needed two hands.
She blushed when I took the seat across from her.
“Hey,” she said. “I hadn’t heard from you so I figured I’d stop in because I knew you’d be here.” Curse my inevitable predictability. When I wasn’t at Violet Hill, I was pretty much at home. Sleeping. Because I spent most of my life here. Pathetic, but at least it was my life and I was in charge of it and I didn’t have to answer to anyone. Well, except my mom, but she didn’t count. I would always have to answer to her. I could be fifty years old and still answering to my mom. Because I would “always be her baby.”
“Yeah, coming here was a pretty safe bet,” I said as Anna came over with one of our vegan sandwiches and a fruit salad.
“Thanks,” Molly said to Anna, who gave her a wink.
“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” Anna flirted with literally everyone. She couldn’t help it. Sometimes we joked about the fact that we’d never hooked up for some reason. I just wasn’t into casual hookups. I had a hard time separating sex and relationships. But if that worked for her, then go for it.
Molly blushed, which surprised me, but it was probably just from embarrassment. I gave Anna a look and she just smiled her sweet smile. Freaking Anna.
“So, what are you doing here?” I asked as she picked up her fork to get started on the fruit salad.
“I wanted to see you. I . . . um, hadn’t heard from you so I figured I should take a chance. Because you said you’d think about being friends and I hadn’t heard anything.” Oh, right. That. I was kind of hoping that she would just never contact me again and then I wouldn’t have to deal with it. Ever.
Honestly, I didn’t know if I could handle being friends with her. Between the tingles I got when she hugged me, to the distance and the awkwardness, I just didn’t think my life needed this complication. Sure, it was a loose end, but I just . . . I didn’t think I could do it. I liked my life the way it was. I didn’t feel like shaking it up, thank you very much.
But then I looked up at her and I could just see that she wasn’t going to let this go. Like that time she decided that the two of us were going to put up a hammock in her room instead of her bed. It didn’t go well. There was a lot of plaster damage. I told her before we even started that it wasn’t going to work. And then it didn’t work. Molly hadn’t given up until we tried, though.
“I’m guessing by the look on your face that you’ve thought it over and you don’t want to. That’s . . . that’s fine. I just wanted an answer. That’s all I wanted.” Her voice broke just a little bit, and damn that hurt. She was hurting and now I was hurting. I didn’t want her hurting. Even though I was still smarting from the fact that she hadn’t bothered to contact me for eight years.
“That’s not . . .” I started to say. “I mean . . . I don’t know, Molly. I mean, I guess we can try it? I mean, we were friends then, so who’s to say that we can’t be again?” I guess we at least owed it to our past and to each other to give it a shot. And I knew she wasn’t going to let it go. Even though part of me thought it was going to be a disaster, I was going to say yes. I guess.
I was a big girl and I could put on my big girl panties and be friends with her. Just friends. I could do it. I hoped.
“Really?” she said and the joy that bloomed on her face made me ache. She really did want this. You couldn’t fake an emotion like that and I knew she wouldn’t. She wasn’t some stranger trying to get something out of me. Hopefully next week she wouldn’t ask me for money. I didn’t think she would. This was Molly. The girl that I’d spent so many nights with, cuddled up in the same bed. Who I’d whispered all my childish secrets to. Who I’d shared everything with. Once. Could it work again?
I guess I was going to find out.
I found myself smiling back at her and trying to ignore the way my blood warmed at the look on her face. She wasn’t smiling at me in that way. She was a friend smiling at another friend. Nothing more.
“I should probably get back to work,” I said, glancing back at the bakery. I had cupcakes to frost and pizza dough to roll out.
“Oh, right, of course. You’re working.” She blushed a little and ducked her head. If she got any cuter, I wouldn’t be able to stand it.
“I’ll talk to you later? I’ll be sure to text you back, promise.” She bit her bottom lip and I thought I was going to die. I was seriously catching feels and this was going to be a huge problem.
“Okay,” she said. “We’ll talk later.” Now I was the one blushing as I stumbled back to the bakery and tried to screw my head on straight. I mean, at least try not to think about Molly in a non-gay way.
Good luck with that, Daisy.
*^*^*
She waved goodbye again when she was leaving and a few minutes after that there was another text from her asking if I wanted to hang out after I got off work. Since I didn’t have anything better to do (besides watching old episodes of The Great British Bake-Off), I said that I’d meet her at my apartment about an hour after I finished work. So I could shower and make sure I didn’t have a ton of flour under my fingernails.
I rushed home as quickly as I could, not only to shower, but to clean my apartment as fast as I could. “Clean” was probably the wrong word. It was more like cleverly hiding how much of a slob I was. Not that Molly didn’t know that already, but I wanted to give the impression that I’d improved over the years. Or something.
As soon as I had gotten out of the shower, I flew through the apartment and tried to do as much damage control as I could, but there was only so much I could do. After braiding my hair back and throwing on some jeans and a nice shirt, I figured things were good enough.
Of course she was on time, I thought as I went to answer the door. She’d knocked instead of ringing the doorbell, which I was glad about. The doorbell always made me jump. If I knew how to disable the thing, I would.
I took a deep breath before I opened the door, but it didn’t help any. She still knocked me out. Had she gotten prettier by the hour? Because it was seriously ridiculous. She had on skinny black pants and a loose purple top that fell off one shoulder. Like she just came from a fabulous dance party and decided to bless me with her presence.
“Wow, I mean, hey,” I said, wanting to die. I was doing great at this friendship thing.
“Wow yourself,” she said, looking me up and down in a way that made me blush even more. I was totally reading too much into all of our interactions and I had to stop.
“Well, this is it. Come on in,” I said, stepping back. She didn’t reach forward to hug me, and I was grateful. That would have just driven me over the edge and I would have done something awful, like smell her hair.
“Nice,” she said, taking in the small space. I wasn’t much of a decorator, but I’d done my best with stuff my mom had found at yard sales and foisted on me and a lot of crap from the Target discount aisle. It was cute and comfortable, which was all I could really ask for. I didn’t want to live in a place that looked like a Pottery Barn catalog. Plus, it would be a lot more cleaning, which, ew.
“Thanks,” I said, edging toward the kitchen.
“Do you want something to drink?” We hadn’t really made an actual plan for what we’d do tonight so I was kicking myself for not having an itinerary.
“Yeah, sure,” she said, sitting down on the couch. Okay then. Did that mean she wanted water or alcohol? Water was probably a better bet. I didn’t need to get drunk with her. When I got drunk, I got handsy. That definitely wouldn’t be appreciated right now. By her.
I filled two glasses with water and ice and brought them over.
“Oh, thanks,” she said, taking a glass from me as I set out the coasters. I should have had food. I guess I wasn’t a very good hostess.
I sat down on the couch with enough space between us so it wasn’t weird and we sipped our water. My apartment was so quiet that I was going to start tearing my hair out any minute. Normally I always had the TV or music on. I was so used to the café, that quiet really bothered me.
“So . . . ” I said, drawing the word out and turning to face her.
“So,” she said, setting down her water. “I guess we’re gonna be friends now, huh?” I nodded.
“It’s a little bit harder when you’re adults, isn’t it? I can’t just ask you to join my blanket fort with your Barbies.” She laughed.
“Well, you could. Blanket forts are awesome.” She had a point. “Plus, now we can have wine in the blanket fort, which is so much better.” Now that was something I could get behind.
“Okay. Let’s do it.” I set my water down and got up, heading to the closet where I stored my extra blankets. I was a HUGE fan of piling as many blankets on top of me as I could without suffocating in the winter, so I had a lot of them. My mom also seemed to give me a blanket for every single holiday because I loved them so much.
I started yanking them down from the shelves and throwing them on the floor.
“Are we seriously doing this?” Molly asked, her eyes sparkling.
“Hell yes, we are seriously doing this.” She made the cutest little sound of delight and went back to the living room to figure out how this fort was going to happen.
In the end, we used four chairs and had to pin a few of the blankets together to make it work, but soon we had a genuine blanket fort and I busted out a bottle of cheap red. Since it was dark under there, I pulled a few lamps under to make it cozy.
“You know what this needs?” Molly asked.
“What?” I sipped my wine, pacing myself.
“Popcorn.” She ducked out and started rummaging through my cupboards. I left the sanctuary of the fort to go give her a hand. We almost bumped into one another and I apologized as she blushed. Fuck, she was pretty. So fucking pretty. She’d always been pretty, but it was a completely different thing to see her now as a woman. I got out the popcorn and put it in the microwave as she got out a big bowl and then a few other snacks.
“This is perfect,” she said as I watched the popcorn bag rotate in the microwave.
“Yeah,” I said without thinking. I looked up to find her staring at me. She quickly looked down to the plate that she was arranging cookies and chocolates on.
Huh?
I went back to staring at the popcorn and it finished popping. We gathered up the snacks and went back to the fort, but I brought my phone and pulled up some music. Something mellow. And not super gay. I settled on Adele. On a low volume.
Molly and I shared the popcorn and our hands kept bumping in the bowl and it was almost a cliché romantic scene in a movie. Without the romance and sexual tension. At least on her side. On mine? Fuck, I wanted to grab her and kiss her so hard that both of us stopped breathing. I wanted to pull her hair and slip that shirt off and taste her collarbone.
Yeah, I needed to slow down on the wine.
I set my glass down.
“What else have you been doing with yourself now that you’re back?” I asked.
“Uh, not a whole lot. Feels like all the decent people left and now only the losers are left. With yourself as the exception.” She tipped her glass in my direction.
“Yeah, yeah. I see how it is. I don’t even care. What people think about me doesn’t really matter. So what, I’m a lesbian that dropped out of college and moved back home. So sue me.” I took a swing from my glass and then realized what I’d just said. Oh. Oops.
To her credit, Molly didn’t gasp or make any other signs that she was shocked by the information.
“Well, I guess the lesbian is out of the bag.” What the hell, it didn’t matter. She was going to figure it out anyway. I worked at a fucking queer café. It couldn’t be that much of a surprise.
“How long have you known?” she said, not meeting my eyes.
“Not sure. I mean, I think I always knew but I didn’t want it to be true? Are you asking if I knew when we were kids? On some level, probably, but I never would have figured it out, I don’t think. Took me graduating high school. That’s when I found my first girlfriend.” Ah, what wonderful and confusing times those had been. I wouldn’t go back to them for all the wine in the world.
“Oh,” she said and I couldn’t figure out what the fuck that word was supposed to me.
“Do you not want to be friends with me anymore?” I said, even though I knew that couldn’t be the case.
“Fuck, no. That doesn’t have anything to do with us being friends. I guess I’m just a little surprised. And not, at the same time.” Huh, that’s what a bunch of people had said to me when I came out to them. That they were shocked, but not. Whatever.
“Does it make you see me differently?” Were we really having this conversation?
She looked deep into her wine glass.
“Do you remember when we played Spin the Bottle?” Uh, okay. Weird thing to think about, but sure. I hadn’t stopped thinking about it since she showed up again. My first girl kiss. The kiss I would compare all the other ones to. The kiss that made my blood zing and my toes curl.
“Yeah,” I said, not sure where she was going with this. She finally looked up at me and she had a strange little smile on her face.
“That was the first time I kissed a girl.” Yeah, I knew. I was there.
“And?” I said.
“And . . . I knew.”
“You knew what?” She could not be getting at what I thought she was getting at. I had to set my wine down so I didn’t drop the glass and ruin the rug.
“Knew that I liked girls.” Well. Shit. I felt like all the air had been sucked out of the blanket fort.
“You like girls,” I said. She nodded.
“Yup.”
“You like girls in a gay way.”
“Yes.”
“You like girls as in you want to kiss them and be with them and date them and marry them.” She started to laugh.
“Yes. I don’t know how many other ways I can say it.”
“Do you like boys too? Or people who are non-binary?” She thought about that for a minute.
“Not boys, for sure. And I could date someone who wasn’t a guy. I think. It would depend on the person? I’m not really sure what that makes me. I usually just go with queer as my label.” You could have knocked me over with a feather. I was stunned.
“You’re queer.”
“Daisy May.” She gave me a look.
“I’m sorry! It’s just . . . what? You’re queer. You like girls and you’ve dated girls?” She nodded.
“Yeah. My last relationship was with a girl. We were living together and we broke up. That’s why I’m back.” Wow. “It . . . it didn’t end well.” She sniffed and I realized she had started to cry.
I leaned forward, but she put her hand up to stop me.
“It’s fine. I’m fine. Just still get a little emotional about it every now and then. I thought she was the one and it turned out she wasn’t. Anyway.” She wiped her eyes and drained the rest of her wine glass.
“Holy shit,” I said. “So that kiss was . . . for both of us.” What did that mean?
She sniffed again and the way she looked at me . . . I licked my lips, took the wine bottle and poured the rest of it into my glass and then hers until the bottle was empty. Then I took it and spun it around. As if the wine gods were with us, it landed right on Molly. Somehow. I had hoped for that to happen on the first try, but I would have spun that damn bottle as many times as it took for things to work out.
I looked up at her and a slow smile started to bloom on her face. I leaned forward on my hands and brought our faces close together. I wanted to give her enough time to back out, if this wasn’t what she wanted.
Forget about the past. Forget about everything. We were just a girl and another girl who wanted to kiss each other. Nothing more complicated than that. It was just a kiss.
I exhaled and her lips trembled just a little before I pressed myself fully forward and met her lips with mine. She was soft and hesitant, but within a few breaths, she kissed me back. I tasted the wine on her tongue and under that was just . . . her. We hadn’t used tongues back in the day, but were making plenty of use of them now. I stroked the inside of her mouth and pulled myself closer. My hands dove into her hair and her fingers dug into my sides. I took a shuddering breath and opened my eyes.
She was right there with me, those crystal blue eyes.
“Wow,” she breathed, licking her lips.
“Yeah,” I said, equally unable to come up with any other words. My entire body tingled from my fingertips to my toes and in-between. Now that was a kiss.
I moved my thumb over her cheek.
“You’ve had some kissing practice, I think,” she said, her voice low. Like she didn’t want to break the spell.
“So have you,” I said. Our first kiss was what a first kiss should be. Clumsy. Nervous. Quick. But it had still made my heart race and kept me up half the night with the memory of Molly’s lips. And a whole lot of confusion about what kissing a girl and liking it meant. But that took me years to untangle.
“What does this mean?” she asked, moving away from me a little more. Her face came back into focus and I dropped my hand from her face.
“I don’t know,” I said, which was the honest truth. “Can we kiss instead of talking about it?” She laughed just a little.
“Okay.”