Killer Storm

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Killer Storm Page 9

by Jen Wright


  By then, it had snowed eight inches. That is a lot of snow, especially for "in town." With Lake Superior, there can be a six-inch difference in the amount of snowfall between town and the North Shore. In the back of my mind, I was wondering how a slumber party would go over.

  Back at the house, I told her that we had one more lesson to complete before going inside: We had to make snow angels. This time I didn't demonstrate but just talked her through it. She lay down and moved her arms and legs as instructed. When she got up, she squealed with delight. It was actually hard to see the angel due to the blowing, but we made several before heading inside.

  Once inside, I asked her if I could use her phone. I called Kathy and Donna. Kathy asked how things were going. I guessed that Donna's ear was also glued to the phone. I told her we were having a great time. I described the driving lessons and the snow angels. I also told them I was not calling to give them a play-by-play.

  "How much snow do you have there?" I asked.

  "Tons. Almost a foot. Have you listened to the weather report? This is going to be one heck of a storm. We may get over three feet by the time it's over. You better not try to drive home. The weather service has issued a severe winter storm warning. All motorists are asked to stay put."

  I wasn't sure I trusted them. They had set this little date up.

  "There is no way you should try to drive in this stuff. You have to stay. Don't worry about a thing. The boys are all safe and tucked in. We are having our own little date here, too."

  I could picture the impish grins on their faces. I'm sure they high-five'd after hanging up. Zoey had gone upstairs and returned with a pair of clean sweats for me, since my pants were soaked. I thanked her and asked her if she had a radio or a TV. She walked over and turned the radio on. D. and K. were not exaggerating. This storm was going to break records. I didn't know how to bring this up to Zoey.

  "Zoey, how do you feel about having a houseguest? I don't want to risk driving home in this."

  "Wow, this will be some first date. No problem. It will be fun."

  She went into the kitchen and came back with cappuccino. What a treat. We enjoyed it in relative silence for a while, our gazes alternately enjoying the fire and then the snow.

  "So, when should I shovel?"

  She really didn't know anything about winter.

  "Well, in a storm you can shovel several times or do it all at once when it lets up. In a blizzard, you have to wait until the snow stops. If you shovel during a blizzard, the wind will just undo all of your work. This is one of those times."

  We sat in front of the fire for a long time, talking about the various research projects she had been working on. She had done research, which she found fascinating, even before she began teaching. "It's like thinking new thoughts." That’s how she and Donna got to be friends. They struck up a conversation one day, and that sparked a common interest in doing a study utilizing the students Donna sees at the Student Health Center.

  At the next pause in conversation, I bravely asked her to fill me in on how and when she came out. She nodded and began. "I was seventeen. I was shortstop on the softball team in high school, and my best friend played second base. We were inseparable. We both had boyfriends and double-dated a lot. I found myself getting jealous about the time she spent with him. I struggled a lot with it. It took a long time for me to get clear about my feelings for her. I also didn't know what to do with those feelings. I didn't want to be gay. One day, we were all at a party in the desert, sitting around a campfire drinking cheap wine. The boys were being raucous, and she and I were huddled together under one blanket. We just held hands under the blanket. It was so sweet. She felt the same way I did. We both broke up with our boyfriends and slowly explored a physical relationship. We were secretive about it with the rest of our friends and our parents. That was very hard. I was head over heels in love, and I wanted to spend all of my time with her. I desperately wanted to be out in the open, but she couldn't handle it. She went back to her old boyfriend and away to college the following year. I was crushed. First love is so hard. I heard that she is with a woman now, twenty-two years later."

  That put Zoey at forty. I had wondered which of us was older.

  "So, you are forty. When is your birthday?"

  "July. Why?"

  "Ha, you are older!"

  "By how much?"

  "Three months."

  She just laughed at me and said, "Obviously more mature, too."

  Chapter 15

  Presumably the snow was putting a damper on all of the gang activities. I thought of the poor jail and detention staff who were going to have to pull all-night shifts, possibly longer. When I worked at the juvenile detention center, I once had to work two and one-half days straight during a storm. That was not fun. I had to pull a mattress into one of the offices to get some sleep.

  Thinking about work reminded me to check my silent cell, and I realized that the battery was nearly dead. I asked Zoey if I could forward my calls to her home phone. She agreed.

  She then asked if I wanted to watch a movie.

  "Sure. What do you have?"

  "Well, I stopped at the video store on my way home and picked up a couple. Have you seen Better than Chocolate or Like Water for Chocolate?" I had seen them both and thought they were excellent choices.

  "Where is your TV?"

  "It's in my bedroom, but I promise not to attack you."

  "Is that going to be a problem for you?"

  Again, she just smiled at me and said, "There's that maturity thing again."

  I was a little nervous about the video in bed idea, since both movies were quite sensual, but I went along with the idea.

  Thankfully, her bed was king-sized. We propped about twenty pillows up behind each of us and turned on Better than Chocolate. We laughed, commented on the baby dykes, and cried. It was a great movie. I had momentarily forgotten that I was lying in her bed watching a lesbian flick. At the end, though, I became quite aware of it, and I found myself aching for her. She sensed my discomfort and got up to use the bathroom. When she returned, I was standing. I asked her what she had in mind about the sleeping arrangements. She had a guest room and a new spare toothbrush. She showed me to my room. While I lay in the next room aching a little, I wondered what she was feeling.

  My thoughts raced. OK, so you are attracted to her. That doesn't mean anything. Well, it is something, but you get so blinded by sex. See what else there is. There is time. Just get to know her.

  I had a difficult time falling asleep. When I awoke, it was fully light out. I stepped to the window in awe of the snow. It was still coming down. This was some storm. Visibility was so bad that I couldn't see the ground from the upstairs, and the trees I could see were bent over with a steady wind.

  I padded downstairs. Zoey was up and offered me coffee, which I gratefully accepted.

  "Did Donna tell you about my love of coffee?"

  "You mean your coffee addiction?"

  "OK, my coffee addiction."

  "Yes, she mentioned it."

  I offered to make breakfast. She accepted with a hand gesture. Rummaging through her fridge, I decided to make a garbage omelet. I call it a garbage omelet because I use whatever is in the fridge. She actually had some great ingredients. I took my time. Why not? We weren't going anywhere. As she watched me from the kitchen table, I sautéed some mushrooms and onions in garlic butter. Then I poured them into the eggs and melted in mozzarella, Parmesan, and Colby jack cheese, covering the whole shebang with a drizzle of the butter/ mushroom mix.

  She actually let out a little moan as she ate.

  "Stop that," I said.

  I was a little embarrassed by having it affect me. She just smirked. This was going to be a hard day. She did dishes while I showered.

  The snow was not letting up. I estimated a foot and a half had fallen since the previous day. When I went downstairs, the radio was on, and the report confirmed a foot and a half of snow in town, two feet up the N
orth Shore, and three feet on the South Shore in Wisconsin. It was record-breaking snow, with more expected. The storm was not supposed to subside until Monday. I was more than a little nervous about spending such a long first date with Zoey. I was also nervous about how attracted to her I was becoming. I wondered what was going on with her. She again sensed my fear and said, "Want to go out and play?"

  I laughed and replied, "You are fearless."

  "Yes, yes I am."

  Chapter 16

  We donned our outdoor wear and ventured out. Neither of us had a clue about what we were going to do. I grabbed a shovel and made my way out to my Rover on the street. A drift had covered the entire rear of my vehicle. All that was visible was the front half of the roof.

  The task looked hopeless. Even if we managed to dig it out, it would be buried again within an hour. We tried a couple more snow angels and then decided to try to build a snow fort. The snow wasn't sticky, so we used shovels and built a huge mound. We then began to dig through the middle of the mound to make a tunnel. She began on one end, and I on the other. After we successfully met in the middle, we just sat there in our woman-made tunnel and watched our breath. Again, I felt an immense attraction to her. My mind raced to kissing her. Feeling the warmth of her mouth in the cold. I literally shook it off, and said, "OK, time to go in."

  We went inside, stripped out of the winter wear, and sat in front of the gas fireplace again. She asked me what I had been thinking out there. I looked at her, thought for a moment, and decided to tell her. I remembered my vow not to repeat the Dar scenario of not talking about things and not asking the hard questions. She was asking the hard question here.

  "I was thinking about kissing you. It just popped into my head." I fidgeted. "I have been struggling with my attraction to you, balanced with my need to get to know you before getting too involved."

  She said she was impressed with my honesty and was struggling with the same thing. She leaned over and kissed me. It was a short, soft kiss on the lips, followed by another open, longer kiss. I let myself go into it. This time, I let out a little moan.

  She then backed up a little and looked at me.

  "Let's not let the physical stuff take us over here. At least we know there is chemistry."

  I felt a great sense of relief. She got up and made a fresh pot of coffee and some sandwiches. We ate picnic style in the middle of the living room. We spent the rest of the afternoon learning about each other. She played sports throughout high school and softball in college. She picked psychology because she enjoyed the study and had never tired of it. She found private practice satisfying but enjoyed seeing the little lightbulb go on for students when she introduced them to new ideas.

  I told her my coming out story. I shared that I remember loving women since my earliest memories. I told her about all of my various crushes on teachers, student teachers, coaches, and camp counselors throughout my life. "My first love was also at age seventeen. I had fallen in love with my best friend. We had played softball together since the age of six in summer league. She went to the private high school in town, while I went to the public school. She was an only child and doted on by her parents.

  "We didn't realize we were falling in love until we were at a party. She lived in a mansion in Congdon. Her parents had gone out of the country on a work trip, and we invited our friends from both schools over. We all drank too much. Played the usual drinking games of quarters and spin the bottle. Several kids got sick. No one stayed overnight but me. We ended the night in her bed.

  "I think the alcohol allowed us to act on the feelings we had had for each other for a long time. In the morning, we talked about it, asking each other, 'Are we gay?' We didn't really know, but we couldn't stay away from each other. We both ended up going to college locally so we could be together.

  "Her parents were not pleased because they had visions of an Ivy League school for their little girl. I came out to my mom and dad in my freshman year of college. She came out to her parents because they caught us in bed. Her mom walked in one morning to get her laundry, and we were naked, sleeping in each other's arms. Her mom sent her to therapy and pressured her not to see me.

  "We continued to see each other on the sly for nearly two years after that. I got tired of sneaking and dreamed of an open relationship. I was developing a close-knit group of friends in college who were lesbians, and she couldn't or wouldn't join us. I ended it in my junior year."

  The afternoon was winding down. I looked out the window and was alarmed by the amount of snow. It was so high it was making its way up the house to the level of the windowsill. I thought we should try the door, which opened outward. We struggled against the weight of the snow and eventually got it open. We both vowed to regularly open it so that we wouldn't get trapped. I suppose we could have made our way out a window. This was some snow.

  Zoey went into the kitchen to sort her way through the cabinets and fridge to come up with ingredients for dinner. We settled on broiled salmon, a salad, and garlic bread. Over dinner, she talked about finding her house. She was renting it from the person who previously had her job. Even though the rent was high, it was perfect for her, especially since it was so close to work. Until now, she hadn't known how winter driving would go. She walked to work every day even in the rain, since it was only six blocks away. In her last job, the faculty parking had been six blocks from her office.

  After dinner, we did dishes to Melissa Etheridge. Zoey let herself go into the music, allowing herself to sing along this time. I found myself thinking about that kiss. Just as I did, she kissed me again. She pinned me against the sink, put her hand behind my head – not so gently this time – and kissed me. It wasn't the kind of kiss that said hello, or goodbye. It was the kind of kiss that lets off steam and builds more. She backed away, straightened her hair, and asked me if I wanted to watch the other movie. I exhaled deeply, blinked twice, and said "What?" She took me by the hand and led me upstairs to the TV/ bedroom.

  Just as we put the other movie in, the phone rang. Zoey handed it to me. It was Lou. He was curious about who was answering my cell. I told him I had forwarded it, and he let it go. Nothing going on with him, he just called to see if anything was up with the case. I told him no. He talked about the view from his hot tub suite on the top floor of the Radisson. I almost envied him.

  Like Water for Chocolate was excellent, even though I was watching it for the second time. There are just certain movies I can watch over and over again, and this was one of them. When it was over, we hung out on the bed. I took the lead this time and leaned in for a kiss. I wanted her. I wanted her to want me. I stopped and asked her, "How are you?"

  She smiled and looked me in the eyes. "I'm good. This feels right."

  She kneeled, straddled me, and took her shirt off. She was wearing a sports bra. She took that off, too. She had full, round breasts. I cupped each one with my hands and gently caressed them. I wrestled her under me, straddled her, and took my own shirt off. I then eased down to within an inch of her. Our breasts nearly touched. She arched so that we made contact. I lowered myself onto her. We spent an enternity exploring each other and caressing each other before I began to work on her pants. She was wearing jeans, and I deliberately took my time getting the snap open. I took even longer with the zipper. By the time I had her pants off, she had let out a little whimper. She didn’t take any time at all with my pants. I caressed her through her underpants. She was as wet as I was. I tucked my finger around and under the elastic band in an attempt to tease her a little more. She let out more than a whimper now, and grabbed my hand. I said, “OK, OK.” We spent the rest of the night exploring each other’s likes.

  Chapter 17

  When I awoke at 9 A.M., Zoey was next to me, still naked, with a delicious little smile on her face and a cup of coffee for me.

  We hung out drinking coffee in bed for a little while. All she had to do was give me that look of amusement, and I wanted her again. This should have been exhausting, but I
was cranked. I felt like I had a little motor in me that just kept revving over and over again. We experimented with all of the power dynamics, the boundaries of exploration, and our openness. We learned how to communicate in bed. It was quite a morning.

  We finally made it downstairs at one in the afternoon. Starved. I had no bearings. I had to look at the calendar to figure out the day. When we finally did eat, the taste sensation was amazing. We parked ourselves on the floor of the living room again with our backs to the couch. The sensate parts of my brain were lit up like a Christmas tree. I also had a perma grin. I laid my head back and let myself process all of this. This was good. I was worried in the back of my mind about being blinded by sex, but I had given in and over to it. In past relationships when the sex was good, I had worked harder on the relationship issues. This sex was incredible. I could work through a lot.

  I also felt that we were doing more than just sleeping together. We were listening, communicating. Feeling. In my mind, I was relating it to dancing. I can often tell how well a woman is able to connect with others by how well she can dance with me. How much she can let go without focusing on insecurities or how she looks, just letting the dance move her. I realized Zoey was watching me. She said, "Tell me."

  I told her what I was thinking. Without words, she got up, put some Macy Gray on the CD player, and held her hand out for us to dance. She was fearless. I'll never forget that dance. She went right there with me again.

  It was now Sunday, and the snow was still coming down. The news put the snowfall at two and one-half feet in town. The previous record for one storm was thirty-four inches. I had a feeling we were going to surpass that. When I was a child growing up in the East End of Duluth, we had a huge snowstorm like this. When it was all over, we jumped off the neighbor's garage into the snow banks for fun. We also ran around the whole neighborhood shoveling out the seniors. I wondered if that still happened with kids today. I really was out of touch with non-delinquent youth and families.

 

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