by M. Ullrich
Once they had reached the middle of the bay, Marty dropped anchor and called out for Suzanne to bring out the blanket she had stowed away. Together they laid out a small meal of sandwiches and beer, with two chilled bottles of water to combat the sun. And Suzanne enjoyed sneaking glimpses of Marty as she relaxed with a beer in hand, smiling toward the sun. They sat in peace and enjoyed their lunch as boats and Jet Skis passed in a hurry.
“I forgot how beautiful it is out here.”
“It’s been a while.” Suzanne handed over her crumpled wax paper to Marty as she startled to clean up.
“When was the last time just you and I came out here?” Suzanne asked again. Try as she might, she was unable to recall that memory.
“The summer right after Abigail was born,” Marty said, still looking away to the distant horizon.
“We celebrated our anniversary on the boat that summer.” Suzanne said. She bit her lip slightly.
“We did.” Marty stood up and pulled her black tank top over her head, dropped her simple cotton shorts to the floor, and kicked them aside. “That wasn’t the last time we were on the boat, however. That was just the last time we took it out alone.” Marty stretched her long, tanned limbs and lay back across the blankets. Suzanne stood and followed suit, quickly disrobing. “I’m still convinced that party boat saw your tits that night.”
“They did not!” Suzanne threw her top at Marty and laughed as it covered her face. Suzanne was grateful for the mirrored lenses of her aviator sunglasses so she could look unobserved at Marty’s breasts glistening in a tiny black bikini top. She swallowed thickly and forced herself to lie beside Marty with a feigned casualness.
“Nice bathing suit,” Marty said. “Teal is definitely your color.”
Suzanne blushed at the compliment.
The two women stared up into the clear blue sky and enjoyed the peaceful calm. Close to twenty minutes passed before either of them spoke. They were lost to the warm sun and cool breeze.
“We took Abigail crabbing,” Marty said. The recollection was so quiet the lapping waves almost washed it away.
“Hmm?”
“The last time we took SAM out was when Abigail wanted to go crabbing.”
“That’s right!” Suzanne shielded the sun from her eyes with her right hand and sat up. “She was terrified when we finally caught one.” She laughed at the memory.
“And you got so sunburned you couldn’t move for days.” Marty poked at Suzanne’s exposed shoulder. “I hope you slathered up today. You’re already pink.”
“I put on a sufficient amount, thank you.” She pushed Marty playfully. “We should do this more often. I’d hate for SAM to feel neglected.”
“I’m thinking about renaming her.”
Suzanne’s smile fell. “To what?”
“I’m not sure yet.” Marty looked into the murky water. “It’s not the family boat anymore.” Suzanne knew it was the truth. Her name no longer belonged in the acronym scrawled across the boat. The same sick feeling that had twisted her gut in the restaurant weeks before was back. Talking about their family would never get easier.
“Whatever you choose, I’m sure it’ll be perfect.” Suzanne was surprised by how emotional she felt in the moment. She’d signed divorce papers, spoken to a lawyer about handling a marital split, and had even been able to look Marty in the eye when she told her it was over. Why was something so seemingly insignificant in the big picture making her chest heavy with anxiety? Why did she feel as if reality was finally hitting her?
“I was going to name it after Abby’s favorite purple rhino,” Marty said. If she was aware of the turmoil Suzanne was dealing with, she didn’t let on. “But I don’t think Archibald is a good name for a boat.”
“Only if it were a yacht.”
“Maybe Ripley, then? I don’t know.” Marty shrugged, her eyes still closed.
“Ripley would be nice.” Suzanne needed to breathe, and in order to breathe, she needed to move. Suzanne jumped to her feet and walked over to the cooler. “Beer?” she asked over her shoulder.
“Water, please.”
Suzanne wrestled with ice and freezing water, digging to the bottom of the drink cooler in search of a water bottle. Her fingertips just grasped the prize when something dawned on her. “You haven’t touched the water from earl—” Just then, Marty splashed water across her face and chest and into her mouth. Suzanne froze with her eyes closed.
“It got a little too warm, don’t you think?” Marty bit back laughter as water dropped from Suzanne’s chin.
“Not funny,” Suzanne warned as she opened her fiery blue eyes wide.
“Very funny.”
“Not funny at all.” Suzanne bent back toward the cooler for a handful of ice.
“Hilarious!” Marty finally let herself go into a fit of laughter. She guffawed until a shower of ice cold water shut her up. Silently, menacingly, she narrowed her sparkling green eyes and started her advance.
“Stay back!” Suzanne warned, but her wide grin did little in the way of a threat. She raised her other hand, the ice cubes dripping from her small fist. They reflected the bright sunlight. She watched as Marty’s lean muscles coiled, her thighs defined as she bent her long legs and came closer. Marty reached out and grasped Suzanne’s wrist.
As Suzanne moved away, trying to save her ammo from winding up in the enemy’s hands, her heel hit in a small puddle on the deck of the boat, causing her to lose traction. She started to fall back toward the cooler, but Marty jerked her forward, and Suzanne landed on top of her, sprawled out across the smiling brunette.
They heaved with laughter, and Suzanne’s chest was tight with anxiety, surprise, and something that hit her with a surprising force—happiness. Against Suzanne’s better judgment, she didn’t pull away immediately. She looked down into Marty’s face and gave her a rakish grin, as if to ask whether it had been on purpose or not. Suzanne couldn’t keep from looking at Marty’s moistened pink lips. She froze as Marty started to lean up so slightly, just enough for her breath of anticipation to ghost across Suzanne’s mouth, effectively jarring her from the trance.
“We should head back.” Suzanne felt dizzy when she sat up. She wanted to blame the movement for the way her head spun, but she knew it was the desire she saw in Marty’s green eyes that was to blame. “Blake should be home soon, and I want to get dinner started.” Blake. She wondered if she was reminding Marty or herself of Blake.
“Of course.” Marty hopped to her feet casually and made her way to raise the anchor. Suzanne opened and closed her mouth in an attempt to say something, anything, to alleviate the new tension that settled around them, but as the engine roared to life, she figured this misstep might be better left unacknowledged.
“He spent the day with his friends,” Suzanne added unnecessarily while readying the boat for its return.
“That’s good.” Marty spoke with her back to Suzanne.
“We’re good about having time to ourselves.” Suzanne continued to talk, unsure as to why. She was just making an awkward moment more uncomfortable, and she was sure Marty didn’t need any more reminding about her fiancé. “You know how I am when I lose my autonomy.”
“Yeah, Suzie. I know,” Marty said tersely.
The ride back to the dock was spent in silence, Suzanne’s mind preoccupied with imaginings and scoldings of what could’ve happened in the privacy provided by the center of the bay. Her cheeks were rosy from the sun and her close proximity to a surprising temptation. And why had she rambled on about Blake? In retrospect, it looked like she was bragging about the guy just to bother Marty. When she looked over, Marty’s face was stoic and unreadable, leaving her alone in her turmoil.
“I had a great time.” Suzanne leapt onto the wooden platform and looked back up to Marty, who was still on the boat. “Thank you for the invitation.”
“SAM missed you.” Marty patted the railing she was leaning against a few times. Despite Marty’s casual remark, Suzanne could tell how mu
ch Marty missed her.
“Let’s do it again soon, okay?”
Marty nodded and said, “Tell Blake I say hi.”
“Okay, sure.” Suzanne tilted her head slightly. “Good-bye, Marty.” And with that, she turned to leave.
They Took It All in Stride
I don’t wanna go!” the five-year-old wailed for the twentieth time that evening, but at least this time she didn’t smash her small fist against her mother’s chest.
“I know you don’t, baby girl, but you have to.” The first day of kindergarten had crept up a little too quickly. Marty buried her nose in the sandy-blond hair just below her nose. She and Abigail were sprawled across the sofa, Marty on her back and her daughter lying atop her. An innocuous cartoon played on the television.
“Why?” Abigail asked again, around the thumb in her mouth.
Marty huffed. “So you can learn all kinds of fun things and grow up to be super smart.” She kissed the crown of Abigail’s head.
“But I’m already smart,” Abigail removed her thumb from her mouth. A small spot of spittle soaked through Marty’s gray tank top. “A-B-C—”
“I know you are, Abs.” Marty wrapped her arms around the small child, holding her tightly against her chest.
The mothers found it much easier to soothe, console, and convince Abigail that going to school would be fun and for the best, all while both women were more emotional than Abigail. They just kept it a secret.
“It’ll be fun,” Marty continued. “You’ll make friends and play fun games.”
“But I have fun and play here, and you and Mommy are my friends.” With a shaky breath Marty collected herself. She couldn’t help but wonder if Abby would feel the same way when she was fourteen and listening to her mothers as they forbid her from seeing that boy or girl she felt she was ready to start dating. One year at a time, Marty reminded herself with a small chuckle.
“And we’ll be here when you get home from school tomorrow, ready to hear all about it.” When Abigail looked up at her mother, Marty smiled at her blue eyes. They looked more and more like Suzanne’s with every day that passed. “Your mommy and I love you very much, Abby, and we want you to have the best life possible.”
“’Kay!” The small, surprisingly loud voice rumbled against Marty’s chest before Abigail shifted into a more comfortable position. End of conversation.
*
Marty and Suzanne clasped their shaking hands together while Abigail picked the dandelions withering away in the grass by the bus stop.
“She’ll be okay.” Suzanne squeezed Marty’s hand. They watched as Abigail ran her small fingers through the green blades. Her pink dress was perfect for the first day of school, but her backpack was too large for her small body. She crouched close to the ground with her back to her mothers, her pigtails remarkably even despite the wrestling match Suzanne had with them that morning.
“But will we?” Marty asked with a tremor in her voice. “How did we get here so quickly?”
They were encircled by more small children and drowsy parents. Abigail was the youngest of the flock, and Suzanne and Marty were surely the most emotional. They heard the telltale sound of school bus brakes squealing in the distance, and they looked down the road.
“Abigail?”
“Abigail, come here!” Marty didn’t mean to shout. The people surrounding her, her neighbors but still strangers, eyed her curiously. “Listen to me, Abs.” Marty knelt and looked her daughter in the eye. Suzanne was at her side immediately. “What did we tell you last night?”
“Always say please and thank you.” The child nodded.
“That’s right.” Suzanne grabbed Abigail’s tiny hand with her left and placed her right on Marty’s shoulder to steady herself. “And what’s your teacher’s name?”
“Mrs. Ford.”
“Very good.” As the loud rumble of the bus grew closer, Suzanne looked positively panicked. “Now remember, if you get lost on your way to the bathroom or on your way back to class—”
“Don’t be scared and find a teacher to help me.” Abigail looked nonplussed. Where was the clingy, desperate child from the night before?
“You’re going to do great, baby girl.” Marty stood as the large yellow bus came to a stop in front of the small crowd that had formed. The bus driver was a bit too bright and cheery for Marty’s liking. This was a devastating day, why did that middle-aged woman enjoy it so? The metal doors swung open.
One by one, the children climbed onto the bus, all giggles and excitement. Abigail was the last to join them because Marty still had hold of her hand. Abigail tugged, and then she was free, moving away from her forlorn parents.
“Your day will go the way your mouth turns!” Suzanne called out. Abigail turned and looked at her with a comically large grin, the corners of her cherub mouth turned up as high as they could go.
“You have two ears and one mouth, use them proportionately!” Marty’s added advice fell like a weighted burlap sack. Her daughter’s smile turned into a confused scowl before she climbed the steps to the bus. To her left, Suzanne stared at her quizzically. She could almost hear her wife wondering what the hell that was. Truth be told, she had no idea. Marty shrugged before looking at the cloudy square windows of the bus.
Abigail found a seat quickly, and the bus started to move. It inched away from the mothers. Their daughter waved excitedly. Both women raised a motionless hand in the air as the vehicle departed. As if on the count of three, tears welled the moment the bus turned the corner.
“I thought the kid was supposed to cry!” Marty wiped at her stubborn tears and tried her best to hide her glower.
“I’m guessing this is your first?” A tall redhead approached the women from behind. She was young and beautiful and seemed quite amused by the emotional display playing out before her. She extended her hand to Marty. “I’m Tess Dwyer, Jennifer’s mom.”
Marty sniffled and gently took the offered hand. “Marty Dempsey, Abigail’s mom.” She didn’t let on that she had no clue who Jennifer was, nor did she introduce the woman at her side. “Are you new to the neighborhood? I haven’t seen you around.”
“Guilty.” Tess looked at Marty with delight. “We just finished unpacking, actually.”
“Where are you from?” Suzanne said.
“Linden. After my divorce, I wanted to get away. The shore seemed like the perfect place.”
“How are you liking it so far?” Marty asked.
“I’m liking it better and better every day.”
Marty felt Suzanne’s muscles tense. She grabbed the blonde’s hand and chafed it between her own. “My wife and I couldn’t imagine a better place to raise our daughter.”
Suzanne had a tamed case of bed head, and she was wearing a worn T-shirt. Marty held her closely with an arm around her shoulder. She felt a genuine smile of pride because she still enjoyed introducing Suzanne as her wife. Marty was surprised when Suzanne wrapped a possessive arm around her trim waist.
“So this is your wife?”
“Suzanne Dempsey.” She extended a hand to Tess.
“Nice to meet you.” Tess looked from one woman to the other as she shook Suzanne’s hand. “Very nice to meet you both.” An awkward silence engulfed them following the introduction. “Well, I have to get going. A six-year-old’s laundry won’t do itself!” The pathetic joke earned stiff giggles, and Tess walked away. Suzanne turned and looked at Marty with a teasing smirk.
“That was interesting.”
“Yeah.” Marty tugged at her collar. A turtleneck was perfect for the frigid air-conditioning in her office, but it was suffocating her right now.
“I guess I won’t be able to let you out of my sights when we bring Abigail to the bus stop.” Suzanne wrapped both arms around Marty’s waist and pulled her close. She looked up into her eyes innocently. The embrace was returned immediately.
“Oh please, like I have eyes for anyone but you. Besides, she’s not my type. Ah!” Marty jumped when Suzanne pin
ched her side.
“Gorgeous redheads aren’t your type?” Suzanne arched an eyebrow and looked at Marty incredulously.
“Nope.” Marty bent slightly to place a tender kiss on Suzanne’s forehead. The fringe of her short bangs tickled Marty’s nose. “I prefer pinchy, stunning blondes with a wicked sense of humor and shockingly impressive skills in the bedroom.” Suzanne giggled against her chest.
“Come on,” Marty said as they pulled apart. “I still have another hour before I have to be at the office, the perfect amount of time to sulk about my baby girl being all grown up.”
“I can’t wait to see how you act when she starts dating.” Suzanne smiled and took Marty’s hand as they walked home.
“All the boys will be scared of me.”
“Or girls.” Suzanne pointed out the obvious.
“Oh God.” Marty’s mind hurt from the overwhelming thought of Abigail’s teenage years. “Just keep her away from girls like me. We’re nothing but trouble.”
“You’re telling me!” Suzanne swatted Marty’s backside before ascending the steps to their front door.
Chapter Ten
“I cannot believe how big Danny is getting.” Suzanne looked at her nephew in awe. She could still remember the day he was born.
“Tell me about it! He’s walking and talking now—the kid rambles on and on! He rarely makes sense, but he’s still more talkative than me.” Suzanne’s sister laughed lightly and continued to watch as Danny sat raptured by his grandfather’s storytelling. She pushed her long blond hair from her shoulders. “I’m just glad Dad has a new audience for his tales.”
Suzanne held up her glass of wine. “Cheers to that.” Their crystal glasses clinked quietly. “When we were little, Carla would go days without saying much more than yes and no.” Suzanne leaned into Blake as she spoke.
“Not like I could manage much more than that with you, Miss Chatterbox!”
“I do remember Suzanne getting detention more than once for that motor-mouth,” Blake said.
Suzanne smiled at how effortless it was for him to settle in with her family. Their past together certainly helped that along.