Tilde tried to smile up at Johanna. “Um, someone’s coming to pick me up.”
Johanna nodded. “Probably best, dear.”
The pity on that kind face and in those simple words. Yikes! Yeah, her chances of flirting or even of normal conversation tonight were certainly gone.
Now she just had to figure out if she should apologise for possibly scuffing the coat rack?
Night of the Fourth Attempt
The next night that Tilde went to Insomnia Club, it took hours until she got a chance to speak to Johanna, even though there were only three members in attendance. Tilde and Johanna spent hours talking to dear old Sigrid about her sleeplessness, which was mainly due to the fact that the government was mounting small cameras on the hedgehogs coming into her garden and watching her through them at all times. Especially at night. Mainly on Thursdays.
Although Sigrid did admit that it was only a theory and she had no conclusive proof. She was a devoted conspiracy theorist, but always honest about her lack of evidence.
Tilde was glad she’d taken those caffeine pills earlier and was therefore alert throughout the furious tirade. After a lot of calming conversation, and Johanna sneakily switching off the bright wall lamp above Sigrid’s face, the old lady finally dozed off in her armchair.
Tilde and Johanna drank their herbal tea to the sound of Sigrid’s gentle snores and the birds singing outside as the summer sun threatened to rise. Tilde evaluated the bluish light streaming in from the window and guessed it must be around four in the morning. The club would close when the sun was properly up.
“Sorry there’s so few of us here tonight,” Johanna said.
Tilde quickly swallowed a mouthful of tea. “Oh, that’s not a problem.”
“No? You sure? I mean tonight was meant to be when we all tried that scalp massage technique Jenny talked about.”
“As a hairdresser, Jenny thinks everything can be solved with a scalp massage and a dye job.”
Johanna laughed and Tilde’s heart soared at the sound. She would do anything to keep Johanna laughing, keep her smiling. Before she knew what she was doing, she found herself saying, “I can give you the scalp massage if you’d like? Jenny has done it on me before.”
Tilde jolted back in her seat. Why did she say that? What on earth was she thinking? Could she really sit here and massage through all that beautiful hair and see the look of relaxation and possibly pleasure on Johanna’s face? How would she get through that without at best saying something stupid and at worst melting into a lovesick puddle of goo?
“That would be lovely!” Johanna said with a slight groan. “I had a tension headache earlier today, so getting some blood flow through this head of mine would probably do me worlds of good.”
Tilde’s mouth was suddenly dry, so she drank some tea before saying, “A massage it is, then!” Another bracing sip of tea. “Wait. Um. I should probably wash my hands?”
“No need, I’m showering after the club closes up anyway. I don’t have any students until ten thirty, so there’s plenty of time to shower and maybe have a nap if I’m lucky.”
“Okay,” Tilde said, her voice unsteady.
Johanna sat down cross-legged in front of her.
With her hands hesitating over Johanna’s head, Tilde tried to gather up every molecule of bravery she had to actually touch the woman she’d dreamed about for so long. The light from the windows was warming from blue to grey, illuminating the strawberry-blonde hair from yellowish hues to reddish ones. It was so beautiful it almost hurt.
Tilde finally plunged her fingers into the thick waves of hair. When her fingertips touched scalp, she gently ran her fingers through all the tresses to detangle them so she wouldn’t get caught and hurt Johanna. Not that Johanna’s hair needed detangling; it was as soft and well-maintained as it looked. Tilde had to fight to not let out a groan at how good this felt, and that made her feel incredibly guilty. She shouldn’t be enjoying this! Should she?
She ignored her own feelings and focused hard on massaging with slow, gentle strokes, making circles of various sizes from the front of Johanna’s head to the back and then to the front again.
She cleared her throat. “Is, um, this pressure okay?”
“Perfect,” Johanna mumbled, sounding half asleep.
When she got to the part where her thumbs were meant to apply gentle pressure to the base of the neck, right where Johanna’s thick hair gave way to soft down against her skin, Tilde found muscle knots and tension. She became absorbed with trying to ease it all out and could actually feel the relaxing of the muscles under her fingers as she massaged. She had finally found a way to help Johanna!
Then, Johana let out a quiet moan of pleasure and Tilde stopped breathing for a second.
She kept dutifully rubbing the tension out of the neck muscles, her mouth feeling more and more dry while, shamefully, another part of her felt anything but dry.
Then she became too guilty over her own enjoyment and croaked, “I think we’re almost done.”
The truth was that she hadn’t even done the temples yet; the truth was also that they could’ve been there for hours if it was up to her. Nevertheless, she was desperate to not take advantage of the situation. Or to die from the wonderful feel of Johanna’s velvety hair sliding between her fingers and the sensation of Johanna’s skin under her fingertips. There was a slight scent of something sweet coming from Johanna’s hair, making Tilde feel drunk as she breathed it in far too deeply.
“Sure. Stop whenever you think it best,” Johanna answered. “Thank you for this, it feels amazing.”
“Good,” Tilde said, blinking a little at the first rays of real sunlight creeping into the room.
“Again, sorry that it’s so quiet tonight,” Johanna said, followed by a snuffling snore from the sleeping Sigrid.
Tilde closed her eyes against the persistent rays piercing through the window. As soon as that sun was fully up, Johanna would close up the club. It was now or never. “Actually, I’m happy it’s just us. I was hoping I could talk to you about something important,” Tilde blurted.
Johanna must’ve stiffened because Tilde could feel how her neck muscles instantly became less yielding against her fingers.
“Yes, you have been, well, I was about to say a little quiet,” Johanna said. “However, you’re always quiet. Which isn’t a bad thing, in fact, it makes it so much more important and fascinating when you do talk to me. However, lately, it’s not just quietness. You’ve seemed tense around me. Maybe even a bit… accident-prone?”
Tilde snorted. “That’s an understatement. I’m sorry that it’s been so obvious that something was wrong. It’s just that I have something to tell you.” She stilled her fingers against Johanna’s skin. “However, I’m not sure it’s the right time to say it when I’m giving you a massage, so I’ll stop now.”
Tilde sat back, frantically trying to figure out how to start the coming-out process. She thought back to how she’d managed to weave it into conversations with her friends and parents and how it had gone fine. This situation was so much more complicated and pressured, though, especially after her earlier disastrous attempts.
“Okay,” Johanna replied. She stood up and smoothed her hair down. “Although I can’t imagine anything you’d say that would be inappropriate during a scalp massage.”
Tilde sighed. “Well, I’m sure there are plenty of straight women out there who would freak out if a woman told them that they were sapphic while caressing their hair.”
Tilde wanted to slap herself. How could she have this many university degrees to her name, not to mention an unusually high IQ, and yet speak and behave like a drunk, deranged donkey?
“Sapphic?” Johanna scratched her eyebrow. “Oh. You’re a lesbian?”
Tilde’s cheeks burned with what must be an almighty blush and her palms sweated as she intoned, “Sapphic means any person who identifies as a woman and is attracted to other women, like me. I’m not a lesbian, though; I’m bisexual. O
r maybe pansexual. Still not sure. It’s new.”
Johanna smiled. “Cool! Well, I wouldn’t have minded if you told me that while giving me a massage. I’m not one of those people who’d think that just because you fancy women, you’ll automatically fancy me. I’m not that conceited!”
She laughed, and despite her nerves Tilde couldn’t help but laugh along with her. How did this woman manage to make awkward situations so normal and natural? It was exactly what Tilde needed in her life. Now she regretted having bailed all those times when she’d made an arse of herself. If she’d stayed, no doubt Johanna would’ve made a joke or something and made it all okay again.
Johanna watched her with a tilted head. “Was that what you wanted to tell me? Did you just want to come out? Not that there’s anything ‘just’ about that, it’s a big thing. I, um, I merely wondered if there was something else?”
Tilde tried to remember how to breathe. Johanna was actually giving her a perfect opening to confess her attraction. Or at the very least to ask about Johanna’s own sexual preference and love life.
The morning sun shone fully on them now, warming and bathing them in ethereal light. Tilde was almost expecting a choir of angels, like in the movies.
Instead, a loud noise rang out. No, not a noise. A thud. It was followed by Sigrid standing up and shouting, “They’re here! They’ve come for me!”
“No,” Johanna soothed her. “Your handbag just fell off your lap and landed on the floor, Sigrid. Here, let me help you gather up your things.” The floor was covered in hairpins, sweets wrapped in colourful paper, pocket tissue packs, paper clips, receipts, a comb, and an old-fashioned wallet.
Tilde looked longingly at Johanna and thought of the conversation that was probably lost now. She helped to gather up Sigrid’s belongings while her courage slowly melted into the ground. At least she could take some solace in that she’d finally come out to Johanna. And the massage had given her a chance to make Johanna feel good and relaxed, while she herself got to feel the silky hair she’d dreamt about so many nights. All in all, she would take that as a win.
When they all sat back down, Sigrid began talking again. Tilde tried to listen, but she soon found herself falling into deep sleep. When she was woken up by Johanna shaking her shoulder a little, the sun showed that the morning was in full swing.
“Sorry to wake you, but we all had a bit of a nap. Now I need to go have that shower and get to my first lesson.”
Tilde rubbed sleep out of her eyes. “Oh. Okay. I’ll, um, I’ll make sure Sigrid gets home okay, and then I suppose I’ll see you back here tonight?”
“Absolutely,” Johanna said with a subtle glance at her wristwatch.
Tilde helped Sigrid out and, before the door closed behind them, shouted a goodbye and mumbled an apology for being such bad company and falling asleep.
Night of the Fifth Attempt
The next day, Tilde had company. The most animated and outlandish of her friend group, Martina, had come to stay with her for a few days while her husband took their daughters on a fishing trip. Tilde had asked why Martina didn’t go with them and had gotten the explanation, “Fish are ugly. Fishing is dull. Nature gives me a toothache.”
Now they were out for a late-night walk, enjoying the flower-scented air that was still warm even though it was close to midnight.
They’d been following their usual routine, Martina babbling on about everything and anything while Tilde quietly listened. Now, however, Tilde made herself speak. “I, um, need to talk about the woman I have a crush on.”
“Excellent!” Then Martina creased her brow. “Why to me, though? Why not to Elina or Jenny?”
“Well, poor Jenny spends way too much time and energy mothering us all when she has her own problems with sleeplessness and terrible dates.”
“True,” Martina agreed. “And, of course, Elina is still on holiday with her exotic American girlfriend.”
Tilde rolled her eyes. “Why do you always call her the ‘exotic American girlfriend’? You know very well that her name is Aubrey. You’ve known her for over a year!”
“Because it’s funny to see the look on Elina’s face when I call her that. Besides, Aubrey calls me ‘rude Swedish chatterbox’. It’s our thing!”
Tilde grasped at the hope of getting back to what she needed to talk about. “Since I picked you to speak to, and since you’re currently right here staying with me… can I vent about my romantic problems or not?”
“Go for it, mate!”
Tilde told her all about Johanna and their recent interactions at Insomnia Club.
When she’d finished, Martina said, “Wow. You’ve made a few cock-ups there, then. Nothing that can’t be fixed, though.” She pulled out a stuffed toy, a blue snail with big sad eyes, from her inner pocket. “Huh? Agh! Don’t have kids, they stuff things in your clothes. At least it wasn’t in my bra this time.” She shook her head and shoved the snail back in the pocket. “So, what’s the attraction with this Johanna person?”
Tilde stifled a yawn; she’d forgotten her damn caffeine pills. “She’s funny, interesting, and beautiful. Most of all she’s calm and she listens to everyone at the club without judgement. She’s nurturing, I suppose.”
“Like maternal?” The snail toy pinged up from where it had been shoved down. Martina folded it to make it smaller and thrust it back into her pocket while mumbling that she should just throw the crap thing away. “Maternal like me?” she added, unironically.
“No. To me, maternal would indicate that she went out of her way to look after others and possibly had an air of knowing better than others. With Johanna, it’s more a sort of calming, reassuring air.”
“Which is good for a nervous, quiet thing like you.”
“I suppose so, yes,” Tilde said, adjusting her glasses.
Martina squinted at her. “You know those glasses make you look like a sexually repressed accountant from the 1930s, right?”
“Mm.” Tilde kicked a pebble, thinking about how much she loved her half-rimmed tortoiseshell glasses.
“No!” Martina snapped. “Jenny and Elina have told you a million times! When I’m rude like that, tell me off!”
“Or you could just stop being rude.”
“No, speaking without thinking is my most uncontrollable flaw. Either way, you have to stand up for yourself and get braver. Even you used to be braver than this, before that arsehole spent your marriage digging away at your self-esteem. It hurts my heart to see you like this.”
“I know, I’m working on it.” Tilde looked at the lilac bush they passed, sorting out her thoughts as she did. “Part of my obsession with dating Johanna is tied into that: building my courage up and allowing myself to feel good things again after all these years. I’ve waited so long to feel love and lust again, and now that I do...”
“It makes things really pressured. I get that. And I’m sorry that I was rude,” Martina said, wrapping an arm around her friend’s shoulders.
They arrived at the building housing the Insomnia Club and stopped.
Tilde took a last deep breath of summer air. “Well, I guess this is where we say goodbye. Go home and get some sleep; you must be exhausted.”
“Nope.”
“You’re not tired?” Tilde queried.
“More tired than an overworked sloth on sleeping pills.”
“Then why aren’t you going back to my place to sleep?”
Martina smirked. “I’m coming with you, buddy.”
“No! No, you’re not. I appreciate the thought and the offer to help, but this Johanna business takes a bit of tact and we both know that isn’t your strong suit.”
“Yep. We also know that you’re too quiet for your own good and that you’ll get around to asking this woman out about the same time that pigs not only fly, but also deliver themselves into frying pans when they’re at the end of their life to voluntarily become bacon.”
“I’m not that hopeless!”
Martina gave her a poin
ted look.
Tilde squirmed. “Okay, fine, but no dirty jokes or telling her intimate details about me or anything.”
Martina put a hand to her chest. “Ah! Would I?”
“Yes.”
Martina grinned like a Cheshire cat. “Fair enough.”
“Also, you can’t stay for the whole thing as you’re not an insomniac.”
“Neither are you anymore,” Martina said with a scoff.
“No, but I was introduced to the club as one and they still think I am. Look, you can come up and say hi to Johanna, who always opens the door and chats to me. Then go home. Okay?”
“Sounds like a compromise I can live with.”
Tilde rolled her eyes. “Well, that’s very big of you.”
“Was that a comment about my weight?” Martina patted her belly with another grin.
“You know it wasn’t. Come on.”
On the way up, Martina was yawning even worse than Tilde. She even yawned when the door was opened by Johanna.
“Hiya. Sorry about the gaping chasm of my sleepy mouth,” Martina said. “My kids have been keeping me up, and now I’m staying with a friend who goes to non-sleeping clubs. Has sleep gone out of fashion? Doesn’t anyone do it anymore?”
Johanna gave a slightly strained smile. “Um, well, we are trying. That’s one of the reasons we have this club, to try and find ways to sleep. Hello, by the way, I’m Johanna.”
Tilde introduced her to Martina and apologised for her at the same time.
Johanna’s smile was more natural as she replied. “That’s absolutely fine, Tilde. Will your friend be joining us?”
“No, Martina is a gifted sleeper and is going to bed. She just, um…” Tilde trailed off, realising she had no clue how to explain why Martina was there.
“I wanted to meet the woman who’s so impressive that she makes my short-arse friend here unable to say the things she needs to get off her clever little chest,” Martina supplied cheerfully.
Summer Loving Page 30