Bobbi and Soul

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Bobbi and Soul Page 15

by J. B. Marsden


  Erin led Bobbi to the living room sofa. They explored each other’s bodies, caressing shoulders and entwining fingers in hair. Bobbi thought she might burst if something else didn’t happen soon.

  She drew back and they peered at each other. Bobbi breathed deeply. “Crap,” she said.

  “What?” Erin asked.

  “I’m pretty heated up. How about you?” Bobbi stroked Erin’s soft, smooth cheek, her heart about to pound out of her chest.

  Erin seemed to contemplate her next statement. “Will you come to bed with me? I really want to make love with you.”

  “What? Wait, we can’t do that.” Bobbi stood and became agitated. “This isn’t how it’s supposed to go, Erin. You’re supposed to be celibate. I’m not going to be the one to make you lose your job.” She turned to find her coat draped on a chair. “I need to go.”

  “Don’t go.” Erin leaped up. “Don’t, please. I’m sorry.”

  Bobbi kissed Erin briefly and took her into her arms. “What the hell are we getting into?”

  Erin shook her head against Bobbi’s chest. “I shouldn’t have put you on the spot. I’m just so attracted to you. To your mind. Your body. Your gentle soul. I don’t know what to do. Loving you is the right thing, I know it.” Erin stepped back. “Please stay. Let’s talk this through. I can’t have you leave like this.”

  Bobbi’s head reeled.

  “Please, Bobbi. Don’t make this harder by skipping out on me. Let’s talk. Please.”

  Bobbi, still spinning with emotion and confusion, heard Erin’s plea. Her fear rose. Erin had all the qualities she was drawn to. She was bright. Cute. Smart. Didn’t take herself too seriously. Bobbi loved her independence. Aloud, she shocked herself by saying, “Am I falling for you?”

  Erin led them back to the sofa. “Sit and talk to me. Tell me how you feel.”

  Bobbi smiled wanly. “I think I need a drink to get through this.”

  Erin shook her head. “Me too. I’ll get us each a beer.”

  Erin came back with the beers. “Now, enough stalling. Spill it, Doctor.”

  Bobbi sipped her beer and inhaled deeply. “I like you a lot. I like the time we’ve spent together. I like you more than a casual thing, but I’m afraid. I’m leaving to go back to Oregon next year. You have your church here. I don’t want to hurt you.” Bobbi quirked her lips in a lopsided grin. “Hell, I don’t want to get hurt either.”

  “I agree to both of those feelings.”

  They drank their beer in silence. Finally, Bobbi weighed her thoughts and asked, “Do you think we could date without…you know?”

  “I don’t see how, if I were truthful,” Erin said, looking up into Bobbi’s eyes. “I’m really turned on by you.”

  “Me, too.” Bobbi kissed Erin. “I don’t want you to get into trouble. But, hell, this isn’t fair.” Erin’s situation was so artificial. So focused on appearances and rules.

  “I know, sweetie, I know.” Erin caressed Bobbi’s cheek. She sighed.

  Bobbi held Erin close, stroking her hair, thinking. She broke the silence. “What would happen if we…if you weren’t celibate?”

  Erin leaned back out of Bobbi’s arms. “At the very least, I would need to go talk to the bishop, in person. The parish has a problem. Or, some of them. Well, more accurately, about two or three of them—”

  “Two or three?” Bobbi was appalled. “How can they blackmail you like this?”

  Erin hung her head. “I know. I know. It’s just the way it is. They’re parish leaders. Big givers to the coffers. One is the matriarch of the parish, was even baptized here. She’s—”

  “Oh, Erin,” Bobbi took her in her arms again, her heart breaking for her. “You don’t have to live like this, do you?”

  They sat quietly, Bobbi rubbing Erin’s back gently. “Do you think we each need to think this over? I feel like my head’s whirling. I don’t know anything. Are you as confused as me?”

  “No, not confused. Torn.” Erin took Bobbi’s hand in hers. “We have a lot against us, if what we feel is deeper than a fling.”

  “This is nothing like a fling.” Bobbi gazed on Erin. She hadn’t felt her heart so warmed by another woman. A sense of hope flooded around her fear.

  Erin smiled warmly.

  “What does this mean?” Bobbi asked.

  “We can’t figure everything out today. I think I need to see the bishop before anything else happens between us.” Erin kissed Bobbi gently.

  Bobbi returned the kiss with passion. She took Erin’s face in her hands. “I need to be truthful with you. I’m not a religious person. This morning, in your service, I felt I had entered another universe. A place I’m not sure I’m comfortable in.” Bobbi pursed her lips. “I don’t know about the church and God thing, Erin. I’m sorry I have this problem. Is that a major stumbling block for you?”

  “Nope.” Erin smiled serenely. “I’m not worried about you. To quote Elizabeth I, ‘I don’t have windows into men’s souls.’”

  “What about lesbian’s souls?” Bobbi grinned, wanting some comic relief from their intense discussion. Her smile fell away. “Are you sure? Isn’t it important that people close to the priest be able to support them?”

  “I don’t see what the problem would be. You’re very loving, generous, and giving, Bobbi. You do support me. You’re as worried as me about our celibacy issue.”

  “True. But I can’t…I don’t understand your calling, why you do the church thing. I don’t understand prayer or worship or having a building that’s used only one or two days a week for a God I can’t be certain exists. I don’t fit into your religious world.” Bobbi stopped to gauge Erin’s reaction to her real questions.

  Erin scrunched her face, thinking. “I’d be glad to answer all your questions. You ask good ones, but not ones I haven’t dealt with before, from parishioners and non-parishioners alike. In fact, I know some long-term church attenders who don’t understand prayer and some who don’t pray in their daily life. All of our vestry wrestles annually about the lack of our church building being occupied or rented. How to get more groups and people to use our space. How to share our space graciously, which is easier said than done. And, whether you’re a Christian or not, at one time or another, many people question God’s existence. I did when I was a teen. Occasionally, even now, I’ll have a day that challenges my faith down to my bones. I wonder where God is, how to reach Her, how to pray.”

  “What do you pray about?” Bobbi asked plaintively.

  “Everything,” Erin answered immediately. “For sick and dying people. I pray for my family every day. I pray for the world, especially places of conflict and injustice, death and destruction. I pray for our nation, which is especially hard since the last election. I pray for those in need or trouble, the homeless, those in prison. I pray for our earth and the human greed that destroys it. I pray for everything and everyone. I pray for Walter, my biggest critic at Holy Spirit church. And for my biggest supporters, too.”

  “I don’t hear you praying for yourself.” Bobbi raised her brows.

  “Hoo, boy, I pray for myself more than anyone else! When I can’t come up with a good sermon. When I want to kick someone’s butt. I pray all the time for my temper, my ability to mouth off before thinking. I never pray for patience, though.”

  “No?”

  Erin chuckled. “When I pray for patience, I invariably get a problem that makes me wait for a solution. And wait.” Erin paused for a beat. “Have you ever prayed with a patient?”

  The question took Bobbi aback. “Wow.” She thought for a moment. “I have. I just remembered. A family asked me to pray for their daughter with them. A teen who had meningitis. We were just starting treatment for her, I was handing her over to the specialists, but they knew me as their physician in my residency in Oregon. I felt so bad for them, because they could lose their daughter. So, I prayed with them. I don’t even remember what I said or how I said it. I didn’t feel uncomfortable doing it. I just did it. Words came
out of my mouth. And we all cried. I remember so well, the crying.” Bobbi wiped a hand over her mouth. She blinked and inhaled deeply.

  Erin quietly watched her.

  Sitting on the couch, holding each other, they talked quietly about Erin’s predicament. They came to no decisions, other than to continue dating.

  Erin led Bobbi to the door at six p.m. Their kiss was lingering, soft, gentle, and comforting.

  “I needed that good-bye,” Bobbi said, nuzzling Erin’s neck.

  Chapter Twenty-four

  Erin was terrified. She and Bobbi were taking the beautifully sunny March afternoon to go out to Yancy’s Triple D Ranch to ride horses. She’d ridden once or twice as a child, bouncing around on jolting ponies without much control. While she had not fallen, the experience did not make for a comfortable ride nor a love of horseback riding.

  Bobbi picked her up in her SUV and they arrived at the ranch, where Yancy, in jeans, boots, and a tan canvas jacket, met them in the drive. Erin gave her a tight smile.

  “Good to see y’all. Ready to ride?” Yancy grinned at Erin.

  Erin grimaced. “I’m really scared. Nothing’s going to happen to me, is it? Will they bite? Do they buck?”

  Yancy looked with concern on Erin’s white face. “Let’s take it easy. First, we get to know the horse. I picked Honey, who’s a very gentle horse. She does lessons with all ages of people. She’s never bitten anyone. She’d only buck if startled out in the open, so trotting around the paddock will be very safe. I will be there with you. Bobbi will ride Golden Girl while you’re learning your seat. Don’t worry. Rule number one: if you relax, the horse will relax. They can sense your anxiety.”

  “That doesn’t ease my tension much, Yancy. Now I’m worried about the horse and myself.”

  Yancy and Bobbi laughed.

  Bobbi said, “You’re making this a big deal.”

  Erin sputtered. “You bet. I’m a city girl, not ranch hands like you guys.”

  Bobbi looked at Yancy. “Maybe we could do some relaxation exercises.”

  Yancy shrugged. “Okay.”

  Bobbi held Erin’s shoulders. “Give yourself a moment. Breathe deeply.”

  Erin inhaled.

  “Count to ten. Breathe out.”

  Erin exhaled.

  “Repeat ten times.” Bobbi continued to keep her hands gently on Erin’s shoulders as they rose and fell.

  Erin closed her eyes and completed the exercise. She felt the tension leave her shoulders and her face lose its tension. Of course, this felt like prayer to her. She chuckled to herself that Bobbi had just helped her pray. “That was wonderful. Thanks.”

  “Feel like you’re ready?” Yancy asked.

  Erin nodded. Yancy helped Erin meet Honey and taught her to use the currycomb and brush, then left Erin to finish grooming. The horse’s huge bulk still intimidated her, but she felt her intense fear ebb away.

  After grooming, Yancy led Erin to Honey’s side. “We’re going to clean out her hooves.” Yancy leaned into Honey’s side and picked up her rear hoof. She picked out debris all around the soft frog, brushed the site, then set her hoof on the barn floor. “Your turn now.” Yancy handed a surprised Erin the pick and put the brush near her.

  Erin amazed herself by finishing the other three hooves. Honey stood very still, obviously a pro at being groomed.

  Yancy helped her bridle Honey, then gave her the saddle and assisted with placing it correctly on Honey’s back, instructing her quietly all along. Yancy’s patience impressed Erin and she gratefully accepted her quiet reassurance.

  Erin smiled at the tacked-up horse. “I did it.” She brushed her nails across her chest.

  Yancy laughed. Bobbi had tacked up her horse and led him to the mounting block out in the paddock. Chill air met them as they led Honey out. Bobbi mounted and waited with her horse a few feet away from the mounting area.

  Yancy instructed Erin how she would mount Honey and settle into the saddle before squeezing her sides to get her to walk. Erin inhaled and exhaled, and while still uncertain about this whole expedition, she climbed the steps of the small wooden platform, feeling less anxious. She looked down at the saddle and the horse’s head, standing still before her. “It’s a long way to the ground.”

  Yancy patted Erin’s leg. “Not that far. Now swing your right leg over gently and slide into the saddle. You can grab her mane if you want. Here are the reins.”

  Erin wiggled her butt into the saddle, blew out another big breath, then patted the horse’s neck. “Good girl, Honey.” She pressed her lower legs gently into Honey’s sides and slowly and calmly began to walk around the edge of the paddock.

  “Remember about using both the reins and your legs to turn her.”

  Bobbi, on Golden Girl, preceded them in a slow walk around the paddock, also bolstering Erin’s confidence.

  For the next hour, Erin learned to steer the horse at a walk, to trot and not bounce around, and trot and turn at the same time. Erin smiled and laughed as they rode the paddock.

  At the end of the hour, Bobbi took Golden Girl for a quick ride down the ranch road, while Erin and Yancy took off Honey’s tack and brushed her down. Yancy let Erin feed Honey a small bucket of oats in her stable before letting her out into the pasture with the other horses.

  Bobbi arrived back just as Erin and Yancy exited the barn, walking toward the ranch house. Erin waved jauntily to her and smiled widely.

  As Erin and Yancy entered the house and each got a drink of water, Erin said excitedly, “I’m so proud of myself.”

  “You should be. You did great. You’re a regular cowgirl now.”

  She cleaned up the horse smell on her hands. Bobbi walked into the house and cleaned up, then they all met in the great room, sitting on the couch.

  “There’s a chill in the air in here. I’m going to start the fireplace,” Yancy said.

  After the gas fireplace began to give off warmth, they all relaxed on the sofa in front of it.

  Gen soon opened the front door and came in with a chill breeze. “The wind,” she said breathily, brushing her hair back from her forehead. Yancy left the couch and met her with a brief kiss.

  “I’ve got the supper in the oven. I followed the instructions to the letter.”

  Gen chuckled at Yancy. They hugged for a moment. “Hi, everyone. How did your riding go?”

  “Great,” Bobbi and Erin both said at the same time.

  “Lots of fun,” Erin added.

  “Let me get changed. Yancy, please get our guests something to drink. I’ll be right down.” Gen walked up the open stairway.

  “Beer, wine? Something stronger? Something non-alcoholic?”

  Yancy got beers for all three and they settled before the fire, warming themselves and sipping their drinks. When Gen came back down, they were talking about Erin’s parish.

  “Wow.” Yancy looked at Gen. “Did you know about Erin’s homophobic parish?”

  “I wouldn’t call them that,” Erin put in.

  Erin told Gen about the arrangement she had with her parish, while holding hands with Bobbi. Bobbi squeezed Erin’s hand, and Erin smiled at her tenderly.

  “It’s more than the Roman Catholic church would do,” Gen answered, referring to the church’s stance against women and gay priests. “But still, they aren’t treating your love with equal respect.”

  “No lie,” Yancy answered in a disgusted tone. “What will you do?”

  Erin looked at Bobbi. “I’ve got a meeting with the bishop next week.”

  Just then, a knock came on the door. Yancy brought Roxie and Kate into the great room. Everyone greeted each other with friendly hugs.

  Roxie brought two bottles of wine into the kitchen area and opened one. She brought glasses back for her and Gen. “I brought the Chilean red we talked about.”

  “Ooh, goody.” Gen grabbed her wine glass and swirled the dark liquid with relish.

  “We were just talking about Erin’s upcoming meeting with her bishop,”
Bobbi said.

  “Oh, baby cakes, is that coming up next week?” Roxie looked with concern at Erin.

  Erin nodded. “No big deal. Bishop Margaret and I know the score. She’ll be supportive, I think. Although I don’t know how it all will play out.”

  Bobbi squeezed Erin’s shoulders.

  They ate dinner together, enjoying banter about homophobes they each had encountered in their lives over the years. They laughed and drank and laughed some more.

  After dinner, they brought out the instruments they’d transported, Bobbi’s banjo and Erin’s violin. “Time for some music,” Bobbi announced.

  They tuned up to each other while the others gathered close.

  Bobbi and Erin played quiet folk tunes from Bobbi’s sheet music.

  Gen and Kate sang along, while Roxie played makeshift shakers made of beans in a closed plastic container. Yancy laid back on the sofa, enjoying the little concert.

  The music swirled around the three couples in jaunty rhythms. Bobbi and Erin traded leads. Bobbi picked tunes that Erin would take up with the violin while Bobbi played background chords. Then they would switch leads again.

  Pausing between pieces, they played six selections, watching each other for rhythm and tempo changes. They played easily together, to Erin’s delight.

  “That does it for me,” Bobbi said after thirty minutes. “My hands aren’t up to playing any more tonight. I haven’t played in some months and my callouses are getting callouses.”

  Yancy stood. “More beer?”

  “No thanks. I have an early day tomorrow.”

  “That was fantastic,” Gen gushed.

  “Wow, you guys played well together. Are you sure you haven’t done this before?” Roxie asked.

  “No. It was fun though,” Erin said, grinning at Bobbi.

  Kate added, “Y’all are good. I’d like to hear more some time.”

  “We’ll have to do this again soon,” Erin said, looking at Bobbi.

  Bobbi nodded enthusiastically. “Sure, I’d love it. Maybe I’ll practice a little more before the next concert.”

  They all laughed.

 

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