“You want to help me feel better?” she now asked the golden retriever.
As if she understood Valerie’s words, Sam stood up. She turned in circles, wagging her tail and barking, and ran to a box in the corner of the garage. She picked up a large red rubber ball, which she carried back and dropped at Val’s feet.
“Okay, Sam, I get the picture. We’re going for an outing.”
Followed by Sam, the ball in her mouth, Valerie went into the kitchen and pulled a cooler from the pantry. She started filling it with drinks, snacks, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches that she quickly threw together. Plus some snacks for Sam.
“I’ll just pull on some sweats, and I’ll shower when we get back. Where do you want to go? Up the coast, maybe?”
Sam’s tail wagged harder.
As Valerie climbed the stairs to her room, she passed a sleepy Gina on the second floor. The oblivious younger woman was yawning and just emerging from the bathroom, her blue terry robe hanging open. Val couldn’t help noticing her nakedness and stared at a delicious, small rounded breast standing at attention and the mound of light brown curls between Gina’s legs.
When she suddenly realized that Valerie and Sam were there, Gina gasped, turned beet red, and quickly pulled her robe together. She crossed the hallway and disappeared into her room, closing the door sharply.
Val smiled in spite of herself. Then she considered that it wasn’t nice to tease Gina. Crossing to the bedroom door, she tapped gently. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I didn’t mean to stare.” She wanted to add, but didn’t, “I’m a lesbian, after all.”
There was no answer from behind the door. Valerie felt awkward, but then she suddenly had a brainstorm.
“Sam and I are going on a drive,” she called out, “up the coast, north of Arcata to a nice, rustic beach we know, so we can have a good run. It’s a beautiful day out, and it’s going to be very nice this afternoon. You want to come?”
Gina finally opened the door, one arm clutching at her tightly closed robe. She studied Valerie dubiously. “I don’t know.”
Val waited hopefully.
Gina stared at her for a moment and considered the idea. “Let’s see, I don’t go to work until 5 p.m. today and I don’t have anything else I absolutely have to do.” Gina looked down at Sam and then said a bit hesitantly, “Well if you’re sure you’ll be back in time for me to get cleaned up for work, I guess I could go. It would be fun, if you really don’t mind having me along.”
“Oh, please come. I’m just jumping into my sweats. I’ve got some food and drinks in a cooler, and there’s plenty for all of us.”
Gina finally agreed. “Okay. Give me five minutes and I’ll be ready.”
The ride along Highway 101 North began quietly. Gina watched the scenery in silence as they passed by the northern end of Humboldt Bay and the small city of Arcata, home of the Humboldt State campus. Valerie glanced at her out of the corner of her eye and decided not to push conversation. Samantha hunched on the floor behind them in the Volvo wagon and put her big head between the front bucket seats. With tongue hanging out, Sam looked at the scenery and then glanced back and forth between the two women. Once or twice she risked a lick of Valerie’s cheek. Val giggled but said, “That’s enough, Sam.”
For having been so miserable earlier in the morning, Val now felt content and warm inside. It was great fun having Gina and Sam in the wagon with her, like a little family. She and Doreen had had a couple of cats during their time together. The two women had been gone a lot to parties, stage presentations, and films. With their jobs and social activities, they had decided that a dog would be left alone too often. Now Val had time for an animal and, with Gina in the passenger seat, Val felt strangely and unexpectedly complete. The idea of her “little family” produced a nice sensation that she fostered for a moment or two and then pushed aside. Gina was, after all, a renter and nothing more and would likely walk out the door one of these days. No attachments, she reminded herself. Live for the day and expect nothing else.
Soon they turned off the 101 and drove along a narrow two-lane road through open countryside for what seemed like several miles. Gina pointed out the crops growing on both sides of the roadway. They made a right turn at a “T” intersection and then a left turn near an old steel bridge. After another mile or so, they arrived at Valerie’s destination—a driftwood-strewn deserted beach surrounded by sand dunes, called, she explained, Mad River Beach. They unloaded the car and Sam, who didn’t need a leash on this beach, trotted ahead of them with her red ball toward a familiar path that led from the parking area down to the water’s edge. Val smiled at the dog’s rapidly flapping tail, which clearly monitored her degree of happiness at this outing.
Valerie had a beach blanket stowed in the wagon and she brought it along. Gina carried the cooler. They found a spot just at the foot of a large sand dune, laid out the blanket, and put their things on it. The sun was warm but the light breeze was still chilly. The sand dune afforded some protection from the cool air currents. “Everything should be safe here,” Valerie commented, “until the wind comes up and starts blowing the sand all around.”
Sam circled them teasingly, wanting to run. Valerie tussled with the dog over the ball, took possession of it, and then she and Gina followed Sam along the beach. Gina had brought her little camera and she took some shots of Sam chasing the ball after Val gave it a long toss.
As the two women walked in the soft sand, Valerie risked a question. “Did you enjoy last evening?” Her tone was tentative.
Gina nodded. “Yes, your friends were really nice.”
“They can be a bit overwhelming at times,” Val admitted.
“Well, yes, for me anyway,” Gina acknowledged. “But you’re very lucky to have several women friends.”
“Yes,” Valerie agreed, “I know.”
“How did you meet them? I mean everybody knows there are a lot of gay people in San Francisco, but how did you find them up here?” Gina asked.
“Well,” Val recalled, “I really expected to be very much alone after the enormous gay community in ‘Frisco. But I met Lanie almost immediately in the real estate office when I bought my house. She was just starting out in the business. We discovered that we enjoyed each other’s company, and it was so nice for me to have someone with whom I could be open about my lifestyle.”
Valerie grinned, remembering. “Then I needed a gardener, and Lanie knew of Josie because she provided yard services to some of the local realtors. Josie had met Judee at Humboldt State and introduced us. Then all of a sudden, I had a group of lesbian friends.”
“That’s really neat,” Gina commented. “I’ve never been good at meeting people. Kind of introverted, I guess. In Tucson my therapist put me in therapy groups and then pushed me into community activities where I would meet women.” She sighed. “Now I’ve got to learn how to do that on my own.”
Valerie was thoughtful for a moment. “Well,” she said, “you know me, and now you’ve met some other women. If you want to become friends with any of them, I’m sure the door is open. They can be kind of raucous, especially Lanie and Judee, but underneath they are all decent women.”
“I appreciate that, Valerie.” Gina nodded and fell silent.
Val continued throwing the ball, and Sam delightedly raced after it and brought it back to her, kicking up beach sand as she did so.
“What made you pick Eureka?” Valerie eventually asked, continuing the thread of their conversation. She was glad in a way that Gina had mentioned her therapy again. They could explore that history some more. It might give Gina some peace to talk about her experiences in detail.
Gina stopped to examine a piece of driftwood before she answered. “Well, my life so far—in Illinois and Arizona—has all been inland. I’ve always had this attraction to the ocean. It’s so radically different, the way it feels where water meets the land. Before I left Tucson, I did some reading about California. I thought that any place along the coast belo
w San Francisco would be entirely too expensive for me, at least until I get this debt paid off.”
She picked up a small rock, examined it, and then tossed it into the surf. “So I drove from Tucson to the Bay Area but turned north and skirted San Francisco. Even though that’s where I want to be eventually, I didn’t even drive through the city. Too much to deal with right away. Then I stopped in each coastal town and looked at the local newspaper for job listings and apartment or room rentals. When nothing appropriate showed up, I drove on. I was beginning to think I’d end up in Oregon or maybe even Washington, but when I got to Eureka, I got my first nibble on a job that would work for me. Then I located the women’s center, with the listings of rooms for rent. That seemed a sign to me that this was the place I should stay.”
Valerie’s heart skipped a beat at Gina’s mention of San Francisco and her plan to go there one day. She had sensed somehow that Gina would only be temporarily part of her life. Val swallowed and forcefully stopped herself from continuing any personal thoughts about that idea. She tossed the ball for Sam. “I guess Eureka makes sense, for your ‘coastal launch,’ if you will.” She smiled at Gina thoughtfully. “You know I ended up here because of the Victorian architecture, the price of houses, the ocean, and a job opportunity I was lucky enough to find that supported my painting. There are a lot of artists here on the North Coast.”
Gina nodded. “Have you always been a painter?” she asked.
Valerie stopped to lean down and pick up an unusually colored rock lying in the sand. She studied it for a moment and then slipped it into her pocket. “No, I got a business degree in college and worked as an accountant for several years. I took up painting as a hobby, kind of an outlet to balance my mind from all that ‘left-brain’ activity during the day. I was actually surprised when I discovered I had some real talent for it.”
They had reached the end of the sandy beach and started to turn back. Sam was running through the surf, happily carrying the red ball in her mouth.
“Are you hungry?” asked Valerie. “This cool breeze makes me feel ravenous!” Her ankles and calves were beginning to tire from fighting each step through the deep, soft sand.
“Yes, I’m getting there.” Gina admitted. “I only had a muffin for breakfast and this brisk air really does sap your energy. I could use some carbs.”
The tide had receded and, in returning along the beach, they walked on the cool but flatter, damp sand, wind to their backs. This made their going much easier.
“I’ve never been to an ocean beach before,” Gina shared as they walked.
“Really?” Val was surprised at first. But as soon as she considered it, that fact made sense.
“When I was in Tucson, some of the students made weekend runs to San Diego or down into Mexico to the Sea of Cortez, but I just didn’t have the time or money to do it. I’ve been dreaming of California beaches for a long, long time.” Gina paused as she mused to herself for a moment. “Movies give you an idea of what it’s like, but films can’t capture the warmth of the sun, the wind rustling in your hair, or the sensation of shifting sand on your skin.” She reached down and picked up a couple of shells and studied them in her hand.
Val felt a sense of emotional warmth pass over her. “Well,” she said with a smile, “I’m really glad you decided to come and that Sam and I could enjoy this experience with you.” She put her arm around Gina’s shoulders and gave her a pat. Gina smiled in return.
Minutes later they reached their sand dune, where the blanket and supplies still waited for them. The cooler and its contents were safe, although dusted with sand.
“I hope you like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches,” Valerie commented, as she opened packages and simultaneously threw some treats toward Sam to keep her occupied.
“That was my favorite as a child, made with Mom’s home baked bread,” Gina allowed.
“You said your mother was a teacher?” Valerie asked, trying to put the pieces together.
“Yes,” Gina replied with a nod, “she was and still is. My family comes from a long line of farmers, but many farms in that part of Illinois aren’t terribly large. By the time my dad inherited the family acreage, it was hard to make a living. He knew Mom from high school and he kind of waited to ask her to marry him until she was out of college. I think he saw the handwriting on the wall—that he would have to have a wife with skills to bring in some outside income.”
“That makes it sound a little calculated. Did they love each other?”
Gina paused a moment, considering the question. “Oh, yes, well, I think so anyway. At least they’ve always gotten along pretty well. But Mother was also from a farming family and she knew the life. She was lucky that there was enough money available for her to get an education and she loves teaching. But after school hours and on the weekends she is truly a farmer’s wife. When I was growing up, she trucked home seed and feed and other supplies for the farm, picked up parts for the tractor and other machinery, ran errands for my dad, kept the books—along with the usual tons of laundry, cleaning the house, and baking every Saturday morning. The best breads and rolls and pies you could imagine.” Gina looked off into space, as if recalling her childhood. “During the harvest, she cooked for all the field hands as well. That’s not all, but it will give you an idea of her many responsibilities. I don’t know how she ever graded papers in the evening because she must have been exhausted by then.”
Valerie smiled. “I see where you get your energy to work all these jobs. Your mother was a real role model for that!”
Gina nodded and gazed out at the ocean, lost in thought. For a few moments she was back on the farm of her childhood.
Val silently passed her a sandwich. The two women ate quietly.
Soon Valerie found herself watching Gina, her mind playing over the things she had said. Val watched as the wind pushed Gina’s ponytail over her shoulder, where it danced. “You’re tall and slender,” she finally observed. “Are your parents tall, thin?”
Gina laughed, pushing a strand of hair out of her face. “My dad is tall, but he’s built like an ox. He’s from German and northern Italian stock—blonde, really strong physically. I got my height from him, but my being kind of thin came from my mom. Her family background is English, short, thin: kind of wiry, with brown hair and blue eyes. So I’m a mixture of both of them. My dad named me Gina—if I had been a boy, I’d have been Gino.”
Valerie finished her sandwich and offered Gina a cookie. “How did you feel about growing up on a farm?” she asked, still trying to make sense of Gina’s very different world.
“When I was a kid, I loved it. We had several chickens and a few milk cows, a couple of goats, and lots of corn. I helped gather the eggs when I was really little and before long I was riding the tractor out to the fields with my dad. I learned to tell when the corn was ready to pick and how to identify pests that could destroy it. I could read the sky and know when the weather was a threat to our crops.”
Gina smiled to herself. “I was a tomboy, so I was happy that I could wear overalls, have short hair, and play softball with the boys in our town,” she recalled.
“Did you ever feel different from the other girls?” Valerie asked.
“Between school and helping on the farm, I didn’t have a lot of free time to think about what made me tick. I was just typical. Farm girls often wear overalls and have short hair. It’s either a pony tail, cropped head, or those funky curls from a boxed permanent. When you’re getting dirty out in the fields, short hair is the easiest,” Gina explained.
“So, “she added, “I didn’t look different from anyone else.” She stared down at the sand. “I didn’t know what I was supposed to feel, about sex and stuff, but I just thought I’d do what everyone else did. Many of the women in town had been tomboys when they were young and were still that way as adults. But they got married and raised kids and that was life. If any of them were different, they didn’t know it or they just pushed it down because life was
about working hard to survive.”
Gina looked out at the ocean. “Maybe if I had stayed there, that’s the way life would have turned out for me too. I’d probably be depressed, but I’d go along with what had to be done. If I hadn’t gone away to school, I don’t know if I’d ever have known any other life.”
“Maybe that would have been easier for you, in a way,” Valerie observed.
Gina nodded. “Yes, it probably would have been. I know how I am now, and someday maybe I’ll be glad about that, but right now it just seems hard.” She took a bite out of a chocolate chip cookie.
“Were people in your town prejudiced against gay people?” Valerie asked.
“Nobody said anything one way or the other. The subject just didn’t come up, at least not in my hearing. The main occupation of the town and the farming community was getting by. And most people there are conservative and pretty religious. Living a gay lifestyle would be considered kind of selfish, I think. And that’s without looking at issues of morality or sin. So if anyone was inclined to follow that path, I suspect they left town. At least I never saw anyone there that I knew was ‘gay.’ There were, of course, a few people who lived alone. But I never gave their sexuality any thought.”
Gina heaved a sigh. “My therapist would say that I‘ve been living in denial—that homosexuality was around me even in that farm town and I just didn’t want to see it. Things also might have changed since I left. There is so much discussion on television and the Internet these days.” She stared at small waves lapping at the sand for a long moment.
She was ten or eleven and throwing feed for the chickens out in front of the barn. She noticed something unusual, something she had not ever seen before. One of the hens followed another hen around the yard, clucking. The other hen stopped, turned, and the two approached each other, touching their beaks together. The clucking turned to a cooing sound, and they stood like that, ignoring everything, for a long time.
North Coast: A Contemporary Love Story Page 8