“Well, I guess we know where Vanessa stands,” Jesus said. “Who’d’a thunk a jerk joint had classical in their sound system? Charley, Democrat or Republican?”
“Oh, no,” Bertie sighed. “Now we’re in for it.”
When Vanessa gave them the tally for dinner and Neely added cash to the tray for Charley, Stacey turned to Bertie. “See that,” she said, hooking her thumb at Charley, “she isn’t even reaching for her wallet.”
Neely immediately turned to Stacey. “She won’t be reaching for it at all tonight. She’s my guest.”
“Well, lucky you,” Stacey said, leaning around Neely for all the table to see and hear. “And you must make ten times what she does.”
The remark burned. “I don’t know about that,” Charley replied as politely as she could, although she was seething underneath. “But she asked me out, and even though I thought we should go Dutch, she insisted, so I’m respecting her wishes.”
Neely threw her napkin on the table and excused herself. Stacey leveled Charley with a hard gaze and followed Neely. Jesus slid over into the empty seat.
“Don’t let her rattle you. She’s been at you all night. I’m sorry I didn’t see it coming or I would’ve sat here in the first place.”
Charley sighed and sat back. “Thank you.” She put her hand on Jesus’s. “It’s been a long time since I dealt with so much lesbian drama.”
Jesus shook his head, chuckling. “Oh, these girls all about that. They make us queens look positively regal.”
“I’m not sure I have the patience for it anymore. But, is there a history here I should know about? With Stacey?”
“They’ve been friends since they were five,” Jesus explained. “Grew up together in the Wagner Houses. Stacey’s always had it bad for Neely. We can’t figure out why Neely hasn’t ever been interested in Stacey that way.”
Maybe because she’s a bitch. Charley reached into her pocket for her balance stone.
As they left the restaurant, Charley turned to Neely. “I’m sorry if what I said about not expecting you to pay upset you. I didn’t mean it to.”
“It did, I’ll be honest, but actually Stacey put it into perspective for me in the ladies’ room.”
“Oh?” Charley was warily surprised.
“Yes. She thought you were right not to expect me to pay, although I asked you out, because you’re both older and make more than I do. And before you interrupt, she was being practical and wondering if I’d hurt your sense of responsibility.”
“Not at all. As long as the next time, I pay.”
“Really?” Neely’s face lit up.
“Yes. What?”
“‘Next time?’”
Charley took Neely’s arm. “I’m having a good time. I’d love to go out with you again.” The leather of Neely’s biker jacket warmed up under her hands and she pulled her closer, enjoying the sensuality, breathing in the cocoa butter, now less a reminder of the beach than the reality of Neely. She had surprised herself with the admission to Neely; she hadn’t expected the evening to turn out like this, or for Neely to be so engaging that she already knew she wanted more with her, more time, more fun, more…she didn’t allow herself to finish the thought.
The subway was crowded at eleven o’clock on a Friday, everyone heading for clubs or coming home from dinners with friends. She and Neely stood facing each other, and the swaying of the train moved Neely right up against Charley.
“You smell so good,” she whispered.
“And your perfume reminds me of the beach. I love the beach.”
“I’m glad I remind you of something you love.”
Charley eyed Neely with a provocative half-smile. Neely touched her forehead to Charley’s, then dipped in for a kiss. It was just long enough for Charley to be struck by the audacious act and to know she wanted to feel those lips again later tonight.
Back on street level, Jesus and Stacey led the way toward the club. There was no sign outside the door, but a short velvet rope attached to two stanchions held several dozen people in line. The doorman moved the rope aside for them.
“Wow,” Charley said to Neely. “Who in your group rates this kind of treatment?”
“Stacey. She works with the bouncer during the day. He always makes sure we have the table with service near the dance floor.”
“You come every week?”
“I don’t, but almost everyone else does.”
Charley felt the bass under her feet before she heard the music. As they filtered down the hall toward the inner sanctum, she could make out Rihanna blasting the dance floor and Jesus swung into action, cake-walking the length of the hall, and holding the heavy vinyl flaps open so everybody could enter. Neely pulled Charley right onto the dance floor and they stayed there as the DJ mixed her way through several songs. When a rap poured from the speakers, Neely pointed to their table. Stacey had seen to it that there was no room in the banquette for them, so Jesus pulled over some chairs, Charley rolling her eyes at him as he shrugged. Before they could sit down, Stacey and Bertie headed for the floor. Stacey leaned in close to Charley.
“This is Young Jeezy’s ‘R.I.P.’ Listen good.”
As Stacey melted into the crowd, Charley laughed to herself, knowing exactly what she would hear.
“Okay, what did she say? Nothing bad, I hope?” Neely asked.
“This is a Young Jeezy rap. I think she thinks there’s a message for me.”
Neely shook her head.
“And listen, you can’t protect me all night, you know.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why she’s doing this. I talked to her, but I’m not sure it had an effect.”
“You really don’t know why she’s doing this?”
“All right, yes, I do, but she knows there’s nothing there.”
In her peripheral vision, Charley caught Stacey heading up to the DJ booth. A moment later, another rap faded up. She still had Stacey in her crosshairs when the lyrics broke through, something about dating outside your race. She could’ve laughed at Stacey’s ploy if it wasn’t so immature. Deciding she needed to level the playing field right away, she surreptitiously took Stacey by her wrist when she reached the banquette, leaving her no choice but to sit next to her.
“You know,” she said, leaning close to Stacey, “Neely’s not the first black woman I’ve been with.”
Stacey regarded her cagily.
“Neely, the DJ’s playing Stacey’s request.” Charley pointed toward the speaker.
Neely listened for a moment and then glared at Stacey.
“Am I your first white girl? Because I was telling Stacey,” Charley gesticulated between the two of them, “I dated black girls in the early eighties. When people still stared at us. I thought that era was past.”
Stacey said nothing, but Charley could see that she was smoldering and leaned toward her again. “You know who I’ve never dated?” Charley looked her up and down, then spoke into her ear. “I never dated any smokin’ Latina women like you. I understand you’re incredibly sweet tasting. Is that true?”
Stacey reached for her drink, but Charley beat her to the throw, putting her hand on the glass at the same time.
“You know if you do that, Neely won’t speak to you for quite some time. So why don’t I save face for both of us, since you saved it for me in the ladies’ room at Vanessa’s—oh, yes, she told me,” Charley offered when Stacey registered shock. “Leave the drink in the glass and let’s play nice the rest of the night.”
“I don’t have to care about you,” Stacey snarled.
Charley moved in for the kill. “I didn’t say you did. You want to stay in her orbit, though, you better pretend to be okay with whoever she pursues. Undermine that and she finds out? You’ll be done. That’s a little wisdom from someone historic who’s lived through it a time or two with my friends,” Charley said, moving closer to Stacey’s ear as some heavy bass shook the dance floor. “You do whatever you want to but understand that there are conseq
uences. And if she’d wanted you, it would’ve happened when you were teenagers. That’s a lotta years to be carrying a torch.”
Stacey bolted from the banquette, dragging Jesus onto the floor with her.
Neely slid over next to her. “I suppose I shouldn’t ask because I know curiosity killed the cat, but what did you say that made her want to throw her drink at you?”
“That’s between Stacey and me.”
Neely took Charley’s hands in hers and ran her thumbs over them. She reached for the back of Charley’s neck and pulled her in for a kiss, catching Charley off-guard. “Please don’t hurt her.”
Charley traced Neely’s lips with her index finger. “Can I ask why the two of you never got together?”
Neely caught her hand again. “You see how she is. I can’t have that near me. I guess I’ve remained her friend because we have so much history.”
Charley sized her up. “Then you’re a very loyal friend. Come on,” she said, pushing Neely out of her chair as “Blurred Lines” brought the crowd to its feet for the line dance.
“You know this?” Neely asked, amazed.
“I’m full of surprises.” Charley sighed at one more reminder of her age, and then maneuvered Neely into a row as Robin Thicke’s falsetto signaled the first move.
With the next song, the DJ shifted gears, floating a slow song down, dispersing the crowd and filling the floor with linked couples. Neely caught Charley around the waist. “Stay.”
Charley hesitated, and Neely spun her around so that her back was against Neely’s front. She took Charley’s right hand, crossed it over to her left hip, and pulled her closer. The cocoa butter fragrance washed over her, and she inhaled it as deeply as she could. Neely entwined the fingers of Charley’s left hand in hers and tucked their hands against Charley’s right breast. Rolling her hips to the music, she began to circle the dance floor with Charley locked in her arms. The music built. Neely cupped Charley’s breast, rubbed it gently, catching her nipple between two fingers and rhythmically coaxing it to the music’s languid beat. The move elicited an unexpected reaction between her legs, causing her back to arch, her head tilting toward Neely’s shoulder. She felt Neely hug her tighter and brush her lips across the side of her neck. Charley tensed and turned her head until her mouth touched Neely’s ear.
“What are you doing?” she protested, even as she began to abandon herself to the security of Neely’s arms, the seduction of her scent. The phone vibrated in Charley’s pocket again, but she didn’t care.
“Something I’ve wanted to do for a long time.” Neely kissed the side of her neck down to her shoulder, her palm rubbing light circles again over Charley’s breast. Confounding herself, she closed her eyes and surrendered to Neely’s embrace, pressing against her when Neely again found Charley’s nipple through the shirt fabric and teased it to attention, keeping it there, keeping Charley on edge until the song merged into the electronic beat of the next number. They broke apart and Charley took Neely’s hand to lead her back to their table. She knew Neely’s friends had been watching what was happening on the dance floor. Some of them were amused. Stacey bristled with barely concealed anger.
As she dabbed sweat from her neck and forehead with a cocktail napkin, Charley was aware that Neely had moved as close to her as she could.
“That was a slow dance. How did you get so hot?” Neely asked, fanning Charley.
“You know what made me hot.” Charley turned to face her. “What are we doing, Neely?”
“Having fun…letting go a little…enjoying each other.” Neely ran her hand up Charley’s thigh, pushing her fingers deep between her crossed legs. “I like you a lot, I have since the first day I saw you, but I have no expectations of a relationship, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Neely caressed Charley’s cheek. “I just want to be with you. And judging by the way you melted into me on that dance floor, you want that on some level, too.”
Charley didn’t know what that level was, but she knew Neely was right as she watched her kiss the palm of her hand. Charley caught a handful of Neely’s hair intending to pull her in for a kiss, but instead she let her go. “I don’t mean to be Cinderella, but I need to leave. I have a busy day tomorrow…well, now it’s today. I’m sorry.”
“Let me take you home.”
“No. Not tonight. I want you to stay here with your friends.” Charley pulled her phone out of her pocket and hit her Arrow cab app. There was a taxi three blocks away, and Neely grabbed her coat to walk Charley out.
On the sidewalk, Neely pulled her in for a kiss as she held the cab door open. “Next Friday?”
“I could be talked into doing this again.” She wasn’t sure that was true, but with the cab waiting, she didn’t want to try to convince Neely that there were better options.
On the ride home, Charley reveled in the night with Neely and wondered what primal urge had allowed her to drop so many physical guards at once. She also wondered if she really wanted to get involved with a group so much younger, especially one that still had its own lesbian drama going on. Her phone vibrated again, intruding on her thoughts. She looked at it.
Brooke: U home? U safe? U drunk? Lie on yr side, one foot on the floor.
Charley chuckled at the reference to the night she’d gotten so drunk freshman year that Brooke had sat at her desk waiting to see if she threw up so she could turn her over and keep her from choking to death. Which had probably saved Charley’s life, something Brooke never let her forget.
Too old and too sophisticated to get drunk anymore.
Brooke: Just snorted my beer up my nose at that one! Sophisticated!
Charley laughed out loud. At least she hadn’t pointed out old. She paid the cab driver, walked into the building, and took Neely’s rose back from Frank, who’d put it in a glass of water.
For the first time in over twenty years, Charley left everything in a heap on the floor, set her clock, and got under the covers without a second thought. After a few minutes, she got up again and took four Advil. She didn’t want to be a sore mess in the morning. Looking at herself in the bathroom mirror, she bet Neely wasn’t popping any ibuprofen. She sighed and headed back to bed.
Chapter Seven
Charley and Brooke stood in silence at the railing of the Staten Island Ferry as the orange hulk’s horn blasted and it backed away from the pier. Charley knew she needed to apologize. Again. She’d been apologizing all week since admitting to Brooke on Saturday morning that she hadn’t been “out with the girls” on Friday night but at a club with Neely. It was unusual for Brooke to hang up on her. When Charley had called right back, it was Annie who answered and said, “Give her a minute. She’s more hurt that you shut her out than that you lied.” So, she waited a day. Sunday, she texted an apology. Nothing. Two days later, she dropped off a handwritten note. That had prompted a text from Annie.
Annie: Staten Island Ferry tom’w morning, 8:30. She needs a day off, playing hooky, and agreed to a hike to Lake Ohrbach w/you.
Charley thanked Annie for mediating and emailed Emily to say she was taking a personal day, which wasn’t an issue since Emily was home sick.
“The note was a nice touch,” Brooke said, sipping her coffee, her eyes never leaving the shore of the island in the near distance. The morning sun barely warmed them before the ferry turned into the westerly breezes sweeping the Hudson River.
“I figured you’d be a captive audience to my plaintive cry of apology.”
“I could’ve ripped it up without opening it.”
Charley looked at her and saw she was serious. “Yes. You could’ve.” She waited the appropriate number of seconds she knew Brooke would need to preen her feathers. “But then you’d have missed me totally abasing myself. Because I was devastated. Which gave me a taste of what I did to you, shutting you out, and I didn’t like it.”
Brooke looked at her. “Then don’t do it again.”
“I won’t. I was being…selfish and protective.”
; “Of what?”
“Myself. Under the scrutiny of your judgment. Which can be, at times, harsh.”
Brooke nodded. “I know.” She finished her coffee and tossed the cup into the trash. “Okay, so you talk, I won’t judge. Who or what is a Neely?”
Charley laid out the entire scope of the relationship since meeting Neely. And then she waited, her hands folded on the rail.
“A whole year of flirting with a hot young babe and not a word to me or Annie.”
“It was harmless fun. It was never supposed to culminate in Friday night.”
“And yet it did. So, what happened to change the dynamic?”
Charley sighed. “Karen. And Joanna. And Jack Hersh’s heart attack.” Had she been a blobby green Martian with a horn rising from her forehead, Charley would’ve understood the utterly dumbfounded look on Brooke’s face. But as well as the two of them could read each other, she realized now just how much she’d shut Brooke out. “A member at the Y had a heart attack last week on Neely’s watch and it galvanized her. I think it led her to decide she’s not living her best life.” Charley checked Brooke’s face for a new reaction. Seeing the same surprised look firmly in place, she continued. “So, she asked me out, for real, and it was right after you urged me to walk on the wild side.”
“I didn’t mean for you to swing for the fences!”
“No judging! You said I needed a woman. I got one.”
“I meant a one-night stand.”
“I chickened out, but that was my initial thought.”
“Oh, my God, you were going to sleep with…with a…how old is she?”
“I don’t know. She could be thirty, maybe. And I wasn’t going to sleep with her. I was just tempted.”
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