Ready for Love

by Catherine Maiorisi

  Now Constance was in her high thirties and Renee was almost forty but their electric connection hadn’t dimmed. It was tempting to act on it and jump right into bed, but she really did want to change. She really did want more. Not only would getting involved sexually while she was trying to work out her feelings for Darcy be a diversion, it might ruin any possibility of something more with Constance. She hoped Constance wanted more too and was willing to wait. So, rather than the super romantic place she would normally have taken a date, she met Constance at Trattoria Montero, her favorite Italian restaurant, a little place in her Upper West Side neighborhood run by a family she’d become friendly with over the years. The lighting, table arrangement, and the atmosphere were conducive to talk and the food was delicious. The restaurant was filled with neighborhood people—families, loners reading a book, couples and larger groups enjoying themselves.

  When they entered, Mrs. Montero greeted Renee like the old friend she was. Constance surveyed the restaurant as Mrs. Montero led them to a table. She seemed puzzled but then she looked at Renee with one of those light-up-the-room smiles of hers. “The first time you took me to a homey Italian restaurant you were trying to seduce me. Should I be on my guard?”

  Renee was pleased she remembered that intimate, connected dinner at Guido’s in Stanford. “You keep getting our history wrong, Constance. I distinctly remember you seducing me.” She smiled. “But you can relax. No seduction planned tonight.”

  “Phew. What a relief.” Constance pretended to wipe sweat from her brow but she also seemed to let go of some tension.

  Had Constance feared Renee would try to get her into bed tonight? Maybe. But she seemed at ease as they settled into the comfortable family atmosphere. Maybe they would be all right.

  Renee ordered the pasta with mushrooms special and Constance the lemon sole. Both ordered salads, and they agreed on a bottle of sauvignon blanc.

  When the waiter brought the wine, Renee indicated they’d both do the taste test. He poured. They sipped and nodded at each other, then at him. After he walked away, Constance smiled again, a more intimate smile this time. “You’ve changed, Renee. You seem, I don’t know, less cocky, more open, more vulnerable, more available.”

  “I’m trying.”

  “What is it? Age? Heartbreak? Boredom? Loneliness?”

  “All of the above.” Renee felt exposed but she wanted to be honest. “I’m in therapy trying to figure out who I am and what I want out of life. I’m trying to change things that aren’t working for me anymore.” She cradled Constance’s hand. “You’re as beautiful and as sexy as you were the first time I saw you, Constance, and I’m as attracted to you now as I was then.” Renee squeezed her hand. “I would love to spend time with you and get to know the person you’ve become, but this time I’m not interested in a purely sexual relationship. Sex is the easy part for me. I don’t want to move right into bed. If that’s not what you’re looking for, let’s enjoy the evening and move on.”

  The waiter arrived with their salads, fussed with black pepper, and then refilled their wineglasses before leaving. Renee hoped the fact that Constance’s eyes hadn’t left her face and she hadn’t pulled her hand away were good signs, but the long silence made her uneasy.

  Constance took a breath. “I’m not interested in picking up where we left off either. I’m also in transition and taking time to get to know each other again sounds right. For me, our connection was deeper than just sex and I’ve wondered over the years what our relationship might have become given other circumstances.” She flushed, apparently embarrassed by the admission. “It will be nice to see if there’s anything other than a great sexual vibe between us. That’s not to say that great sex isn’t of interest.” She lifted her glass. “Here’s to long walks, long talks, great cuddles and many laughs.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” They clinked glasses, drank and smiled at each other. That moment felt more intimate than the sex with the last woman Renee had taken to bed months ago.

  Constance put her glass down. “I’m starving. What about you?”

  The tension was gone. Dinner was lovely. They reminisced some but mostly they discussed art, the news, and people they knew in common. They laughed a lot.

  Renee was pleased to find that Constance was living quite near her on the Upper West Side. “You seem like an Upper East Side kind of person, being royalty and all. How did you come to live on my side of the park?”

  Constance sipped her wine. “When I decided to move to New York City I called an old friend at the embassy who has lived here many years to ask him about visa arrangements and apartments. He helped with the paperwork and gave me the rundown on the East versus the West side of Central Park. He recommended a couple of places on the Upper East Side because people in our social circle live there. But I moved here to get away from the royalty thing and all the social life that goes with it. So I asked him to look for something on the West Side and he put me in touch with a woman who was getting married and wanted to rent out her apartment. It’s large and lovely in a doorman building on Seventy-Fifth Street on Riverside Drive, facing Riverside Park and the Hudson River. Best of all, she wanted to rent it furnished, so I was able to move right in when I arrived.”

  “That’s great. I live on Central Park West and Eighty-Eighth Street, about a fifteen-minute walk from you.”

  Mrs. Montero interrupted to offer dessert on the house. She sat with them as they shared a slice of Italian cheesecake, the house specialty. The restaurant owner seemed quite taken with Constance, who charmed without effort, and she encouraged them to come back soon.

  Renee didn’t want the evening to end so she suggested she walk Constance home. They strolled downtown, from Montero’s on Eighty-Ninth Street and Broadway to Constance’s apartment, talking easily as usual. Even the silences were easy. Constance steered them to a bench on Riverside Drive facing her building. They chatted a while longer, then she took Renee’s hand and kissed her cheek. “This has been lovely, Renee. I’m so glad we found each other again. The ball is in your court. I’ll go as slow as you want, but I definitely want to go, so don’t wait too long to call.”

  Renee had forgotten how much she loved Constance’s frankness.

  They crossed the street and Constance greeted the doorman standing at the entrance to her building. She turned to Renee. “Thank you for a lovely evening. Goodnight.”

  Much too soon, the night was over and she was walking home with that smile still on her face, thinking about when she could see Constance again.

  Take it slow. How does one do that? She had absolutely zero experience with slow. She’d always gone fast—meet a woman, get her into bed and leave—usually after one night, occasionally it lasted a week or two. She needed help figuring out how to do slow. Gina was out of town so she called and made a reservation for dinner the next night at Buonasola, Tori and Elle’s restaurant.

  * * *

  She’d made the reservation for late in the dinner hour so Tori would be able to join her while she ate. She was just digging into her Lamb Tagine when Tori kissed the top of her head, dropped into a seat at the table and poured herself a glass from the bottle of Malbec Renee had ordered. “Hey, good to see you.” She searched Renee’s face. “You’re looking better.”

  Tori plucked the spoon from Renee’s place setting and fished a piece of lamb out of Renee’s dish. She chewed slowly, savoring the tasty meat. “Delicious, if I say so myself.”

  Renee laughed. “I second that.” Tori looked tired but Renee knew she loved cooking and feeding people. The combination of Tori’s fabulous food and Elle’s incredible ability to remember names, likes, dislikes, and personal things about their regular customers made everyone feel special and welcome. The restaurant was the go-to place for fashionable New Yorkers.

  Tori waved to Elle, then focused on Renee. “How are you feeling, sweetie?”

  “Better. I started therapy this week.”

  She squeezed Renee’s shoulder. “Good for
you.”

  “I need some relationship advice.” Tori cocked her head and waited for Renee to speak. “Do you remember I mentioned there might have been one woman besides Darcy and Gina who touched my heart?”

  “I do.” Tori sipped her wine.

  “At the Metropolitan Museum Gala the other night I ran into her, an old, um, someone that I had a thing with when I was at Stanford. I still find her attractive, and this time I want to get to know her before we jump into bed. She’s okay with that but I’m not sure how often I should see her since I want to go slowly.”

  Renee could see Tori trying to hold back her laughter. She pretended to be annoyed. “So is it the going slowly, or getting to know her, or not wanting to jump into bed that you think is laughable?”

  Tori cracked up. “You have to admit, Renee, given your history those statements are hilarious coming from you.”

  Renee joined in the laughter and each time one of them stopped, they looked at each other and off they went again. Elle strolled over. “What’s with you two? You’re disturbing our guests.”

  Renee looked up. The customers at the few tables left in the restaurant were staring with huge grins. “I just said I—” She cracked up again.

  Elle stood with her hands on her hips trying in vain to hide a grin.

  Tori took a breath. “Renee said she’s interested in a woman and wants to go slow, wants to get to know her and doesn’t want to jump into—” She was overcome with laughter again. “Bed,” Tori snorted.

  Elle shook her head. “You two are hopeless.” She walked away, commenting to the guests watching, some themselves laughing in sympathy. “Sorry, please forgive them for disturbing your dinner. It must really be funny but I have no idea what they’re laughing at.”

  When they finally regained control, Renee dried her tears.

  “There must be a word to describe something so out of character that it’s ridiculous,” Tori said, wiping her tears with the clean napkin on the table. “Where’s Darcy when we need her? She always knows the right word.”

  “How about incongruous? Strange? Bizarre? Outlandish?” Renee was trying to sound annoyed but her broad smile showed her true feelings. “Okay, I’ll admit those words are kind of unusual coming from me. But I swear I mean it. How frequently should I see her if I want to go slowly?” She picked up her fork and started eating again.

  Tori put a hand on Renee’s shoulder and waited until Renee looked at her to speak. “I hope you know I was teasing.”

  Renee put her hand over Tori’s. “Didn’t you notice I was laughing as loud and long as you?”

  Tori ran her finger around the rim of her wineglass. “She must be pretty special.”

  Renee thought of Constance, her wit, her intelligence, her beauty and sexuality, and the strength of their emotional and physical connection after all these years. “She is. Very special. And, I don’t want to screw it up this time.”

  “Tell me about her.”

  “Her name is Constance Martindale. She’s British and just moved to New York City from London. At Stanford we had a two-month, I want to say fling, but really, though I never admitted it to myself then or since, it was a relationship. She’s a blond, green-eyed beauty with a wicked wit, brilliant intelligence, and intense sexuality. She’s strong and independent. In fact, the minute she sensed me pulling back years ago, she dumped me before I could dump her.”

  “Ah, a woman with backbone and self-respect.” Tori helped herself to some more of Renee’s dinner. “She sounds perfect for you. Is there something special about Constance or would you feel the same about any of your many old flames if you met them today?”

  “It’s Constance. She’s the only one, other than Darcy and Gina, with whom I’ve ever wanted more than sex.”

  “Interesting coincidence that she shows up now when you’re dealing with your feelings for Darcy. I gather you’re still attracted to her and it’s not just a get her into bed kind of attraction?”

  “It’s strange. I haven’t seen her in sixteen or so years, and we’ve both changed but it’s like there’s been no break. Being with her again has been wonderful but this time I want more than casual sex. I want a real relationship.”

  “Wow, I have to meet this woman.” Tori buttered a piece of bread. “But since you’re also dealing with your feelings for Darcy, you need to be careful that it’s not just a rebound thing. Taking it slow seems like a good idea. You need to judge, of course, but it seems to me if you’re serious about changing and she’s willing to go along with what you need, seeing her once or twice a week will give you time to reflect in between. And it’s a good idea to leave sex out of it as long as you can so it doesn’t complicate things or bring up old feelings that make you want to run.”

  Renee considered the advice. “Sounds right to me.”

  “Just so you know, I haven’t forgotten you owe me the story of you and Gina. But I don’t want to overload you so it can wait.” Tori poured them both more wine. “The Inner Circle is not for the fainthearted, but if she likes music and you think she can handle being with all of us, bring her to the next songfest.”

  “She used to sing but I don’t know whether she’s still into music. I’ll have to give it some thought. Songfest feels like bringing someone home to meet the parents.”

  Tori laughed. “Well, Mama Darcy won’t be there so it shouldn’t be too bad.”

  Renee looked around and they were the only two people still at a table. Elle was at the register and the waiters and busboys were cleaning up. Apologizing for keeping Tori from cleaning up, Renee hugged and kissed her, then moved to pay Elle.

  Tori called out. “I ate half her dinner and drank her wine.” Elle waved her off. “The chef says I can’t take your money. Sorry I didn’t join you but I didn’t want to intrude.”

  “I’m sorry about disturbing your customers, Elle, but it’s been a long time since I’ve had such a good laugh.”

  Elle looked back toward the kitchen. “It’s Tori, I know. Once she starts it’s hard to stop her. I guess it’s better laughing than crying.”

  “It felt good. Thanks for dinner. And thanks for respecting my privacy. But I’d never ask you to keep secrets from one another. If you’re interested, Tori can fill you in.” Another hug and a kiss on the cheek, and then for the second night in a row, Renee went home with a smile on her face. Her smile got even bigger when she called Constance and she agreed to drive upstate Saturday morning, have lunch, take a hike then stop for dinner on the way home.

  Chapter Eight

  Renee felt uneasy as she followed Olivia into the room. She wasn’t sure why thinking about being biracial made her so uncomfortable but she found she couldn’t concentrate on it and didn’t want to talk about it. “Olivia, can we table the biracial discussion for now?”

  “This must be really important, Renee, if you can’t deal with it. We’ll skip it but don’t expect me to forget about it. What do you want to talk about?”

  Renee didn’t want to get sidetracked but she wanted Olivia to know what was happening. “Mainly, I want to finish talking about Darcy but before we start, I wanted to tell you that Constance, the only woman besides Darcy and Gina who was important to me in the past, has resurfaced in my life and we’re dating.”

  Olivia sighed. “But you don’t want to talk about her either?”

  Renee smiled. “I want to talk about Darcy.” Olivia didn’t say anything else so she launched into her story. “The summer between our sophomore and junior years, Darcy and I traveled throughout Europe. It was a wonderful trip and by the end we were close again. So when we returned to school, to our single rooms, I was confident that Darcy would be there when I was ready to settle down sometime in the future.

  “I hadn’t counted on Darcy meeting someone else. I wasn’t threatened by Tori when Darcy started seeing her in September of our junior year. She was absolutely brilliant, but she was a very tall, scrawny, naïve seventeen-year-old farm girl from an ultrareligious family, and in my
mind, no competition. Yet, suddenly Darcy was unavailable, unwilling to get together with me. I was puzzled but not worried. I figured it was her mind that interested Darcy and we would bounce back together, as usual.”

  “By the end of the first semester of our junior year, Darcy and Tori began to look like a couple. I was nervous but still believed she would be there when I wanted her. It wasn’t until Darcy told me she was in love with Tori that I allowed myself to feel the depth of my love for her. It was then I realized what I’d thrown away.

  “Darcy asked that we remain friends. I still hoped I could win her back so I forced myself to spend time with them, always with a date as a buffer, hoping to make Darcy jealous. But she only had eyes for Tori. Though Darcy and I forged a deep friendship, I never again mentioned my true feelings for her.

  “My senior year, I fell in love again. Gina was the first girl I’d slept with after I decided Darcy and I needed an open relationship freshman year. We’d had sex off and on after that, but she spent two weeks with me in Paris the August before our senior year and something shifted. We got serious. We were good together in so many ways, but she was a black activist and had problems with me being biracial. She—”

  “Stop.” Olivia nearly levitated. “Why is this the first time I’m hearing about you being in love with someone other than Darcy? And how that someone had an issue with you being biracial? If you’re going to withhold information, Renee, I can’t work with you.”

  Renee flushed. “I…” She ran her finger around her collar and loosened her tie. “I didn’t mean to withhold. I don’t know how to explain it. When Darcy and I had lunch, she asked why I claim to have been in love with her since we first got together when I loved Gina after her. I’m embarrassed. But I don’t know.”