by Aliyat Lecky
“I have no idea what you’re talking about. You look pretty damn good from where I’m standing. Something to drink? Cognac? I have some Remy or Courvoisier.” She had continued, not giving Helen a chance to respond to her appraisal. “Remy, I think. Perfect after a day of gorging one’s self with deep-fried fair food on a stick.”
“Oh, that sounds perfect. Do you need any help?”
“No, I got it. I’ll just be a sec. Sit. Get comfortable.” Noami opened the blinds on the balcony window, revealing a view of the night sky before pouring their drinks. “We’d have a lovely view of the stars if the city lights weren’t so bright, but the moon is gorgeous.” Noami returned to the window with the glasses. Helen joined her there.
“You do have a charming view of the night sky.”
“Yes, I pay way too much for it. But I am inspired by it, so that makes the cost worth it.”
“I imagine it’s more stunning just before the sun rises.” Helen remarked absently. She was looking up. The moon hung high in the amethyst sky. Its yellow light contrasted against the night and sending radiating rays beyond their view.
“Breathtaking. Why don’t you stay and see for yourself?” Noami suggested without missing a beat.
As Helen turned to face her, Noami could tell she had considered doing just that, if only for a second. Noami watched her take a sip of the smooth liquor. There was something about Helen that drove her crazy. She was sexy and mature. She was smart, pretty, and creative. Most of all, when Helen laughed quietly, as if at a private joke—as she had much of the day—Noami became so turned on, it was all she could do to keep her hands to herself. And she did have a great rack. Indeed, Noami did appreciate the fact that, despite Helen’s small frame, her breasts were greater than a handful.
Noami caught the moon’s reflection deep in Helen’s eyes only seconds before Helen kissed her. Her lips were soft and sweet. The kiss was tentative and quick, as if Helen was unsure the physical connection was appreciated, and ended much too soon. Noami relieved Helen of her glass before she searched to discover the moon in her eyes again.
Placing her hand on the side of Helen’s face, she turned her away from the window, slowly. The first kiss had been offered by Helen, but nevertheless, she wanted to be sure the next was welcomed. Noami backed Helen into the window, pressing her against the cool glass. Helen arched slightly forward, away from the cold shock just as Noami had anticipated. Noami’s longing was only heightened by Helen’s reaction. As Helen arched toward her, Noami leaned into her, so that there was no space between them. She held Helen in a tender embrace, gently holding her so that it was easy for Helen to pull away if she chose to.
Noami remained still, enveloped in the sensations of their closeness and the convergence of the scents of their bodies together. She turned her face down into Helen’s temple, burying her nose into her hair. Noami follow the lines of Helen’s face with her parted lips, then to her mouth to hover there, tasting her breath. Helen raised her chin, boldly claiming Noami’s mouth with a kiss, which began tenderly, but quickly transformed and reflected the passion which grew between them.
“You taste good,” Helen, sighed without breaking the kiss. “Like purple.”
“My life is lavender, so I taste like violets,” Noami said as their connection deepened.
“Ah, good. I’ve always loved purple.”
EIGHT
WITH THE FALL came another season of change. The change in weather, signaled by the chill of the morning air, also brought Helen a crisp clarity that was so unexpected that when it set upon her, a shiver of realization shook her to the core, and left her limp and breathless. She found herself frozen in the midst of a memory that, until triggered by the arrival of the fall, she hadn’t considered for decades. Helen was confronted by her own transformation.
***
HELENA LOOKED UP from her task of raking fallen leaves out of the view. She had been taking pictures of her daughter and felt a need to modify the aesthetics. “Helen, don’t get your dress all dirty, honey.” The command came from her mother, but the physical action had not. Helen felt herself being scooped up in the arms of May, her mother’s assistant. “Put her there by Jack,” Helena said. She turned to her husband after retrieving her camera. “Jack, can’t you see I am trying to take pictures of her in the yard before all the leaves fall? You’re no help.” Helena yanked off her scarf and motioned toward the other side of the table. “How do you expect me to get a nice, candid picture if you don’t help?” Helen was placed away from the sand box, near her father. He took very little notice of his six-year-old daughter, other than the small gesture of a slight pat on her head. Beyond that, he paid no attention. Helen, on the other hand, toddled closer to her father in search of more consideration. He ignored her. Instead, he lavished his attention on his personal assistant, Bennie.
Helen’s father and Bennie sat together on a large deck lounge. Jack leaned comfortably against the back of the chair. Bennie sat within arm’s reach on the foot facing him. Helen watched as her father leaned for the bottle of beer which lay between them. Bennie snatched it up before Jack could reach it.
“Let me,” Bennie said, opening said the bottle, and taking a sip before passing the bottle to Jack.
Jack picked up one of the fallen leaves and passed it to Bennie in thanks, as if presenting him with a single, romantic rose.
“Jack!” Helena yelled at her husband from across the pool. “Do you see your daughter sitting there?” She replaced her scarf once more and resumed raking leaves, and added without looking up, “Bennie, really, I expect more from you. May, take her in the house and clean her up, will you?”
***
HELEN SPLASHED HER face once more with cold water in another attempt to wash away the questions that swirled in her head. She had been putting off calling her parents for two days when first the odd memory of her childhood, brought on by recent events, resurfaced. She had been feeling so good lately. She had avoided the conversation she knew she would soon have to have with her mother and father. She had come through a dark period in her life to a large degree, because she had found a gift without actually searching for her. Helen was on the verge of making a discovery of self that she simply could no longer deny. That was in great part due to the insight she gained by facing memories of her life from which she no longer chose to hide.
Helen realized that she couldn’t take credit for this alone. She had received support from two friends: Angie and Noami. Angie, who had been a best friend for many years, had always accused Helen of not saving enough of her own energy or time for herself. Finally, Helen had taken Angie’s advice to put herself first from time to time. That time she set aside was spent, for the most part, with her newest friend, Noami, and often accompanied by Angie.
The more time she and Noami spent together, the more they found what they had in common despite their age difference. The greatest unifying point was, of course, Noami’s great adoration for Helen’s father’s work. Their appreciation for him had brought them together, but their mutual interest in each other was the cement which quickened their friendship.
During the months that followed their initial meeting, Helen and Noami passed many hours in each other’s company. Helen met many of Noami’s friends, and began to build camaraderie with them independent of Noami. She enjoyed discovering parts of the Twin Cities that she hadn’t guessed existed with Noami. Helen had even taken to carrying her laptop to Sappho’s Repose because Noami spent so much time there. In fact, she and Angie had become regulars at Bath’s Wife. Angie became a regular on the dance floor and partying with the girls, all to whom she made clear her heterosexuality. She could be often heard on the loud speakers belting out a Motown favorite on the karaoke stage. Helen preferred to spend her evenings ensconced in a quiet, dark corner of the nightclub with Noami, gossiping and laughing at their private jokes, and ignoring the pulsing music and the other hundred or so patrons in the bar.
Every once in a while, Angie wou
ld leave the dance floor to grace them with her sweaty presence, often bringing along a new acquaintance she met on the dance floor. Some nights, Angie would leave them completely alone to their own devices. On each of these nights, Helen and Angie would arrive together. Angie would sit with Helen until Noami joined them, and then would leave to search out one of her favorite dance buddies. Other evenings, Noami was already there, waiting at their usual table for Helen to arrive. However the evening began, it ended quite the same with Helen and Noami exchanging innocent kisses on each cheek, or stealing passionate exchanges, and Angie giving Helen a knowing sideways glance. To Noami, Angie would offer her hand goodnight and give a quick squeeze of support, because she had understood before Helen what Noami’s intentions were. Angie also knew before Helen, that Helen was open to Noami’s overtures. That was the beginning of Helen and Noami’s liaison.
Many warm evenings had passed since Helen and Noami began to forge a friendship so artlessly, in concert and mutual interest. Now, as the chill of night encroached to chase away the warm dusk, Helen and Noami’s awareness of each other transformed as unexpectedly as the season in late August. Just as the leaves turned from youthful green to mature shades of amber and chartreuse, so had their friendship transformed into vibrant hues of longing and desire.
Helen couldn’t say for sure when, during the course of the spring and summer months, her feelings for Noami evolved from attraction to desire. She only knew that one night while she was standing alone in her bedroom preparing for a night out with Noami, that she wondered if she might, that night, take a step farther with Noami beneath the full autumn moon, and wasn’t surprised by the thought.
What had surprised her, was when she finally felt confident enough to discuss her potential infidelity with Angie, who had been party and witness to the development, as they drove to meet Noami and a few other friends to a moonlit basket dine-out for the annual Bath-Sappho End of Harvest Celebration. Angie’s response to the idea was to tell her she had brought gum, just in case. Then Angie laughed and added, “Hell, girl, your face turns to stare at women’s asses faster than Orlando and Richard’s.” After a few still minutes of contemplative silence, Angie said, “Your life is yours. That’s it, isn’t it?” That was all she offered on the matter. As they turned off the main road onto a country path and cleared the dark trees hiding the night sky, she said, “I hope you’re serving your old cranberry recipe for Thanksgiving dinner this year. Last year’s was too tart.”
Helen sighed at the full moon climbing above the trees. She concentrated on the colored orb as she made a mental list for Thanksgiving dinner that would occur in a little over two weeks. Where had the summer gone? She counted the stars in the sky, cataloging them dimmest to most brilliant. If she were at home, they wouldn’t shine as brightly in the night. That, she thought, was sad. She settled back in her seat and looked again out at the dark sky. The pink moon had followed them into the clearing where Angie parked. How odd it was that the harvest moon was not yellow. It?
When they arrived at the harvest celebration, they stood together on the edge of a crowded field. Helen searched the crowd for Noami. Angie searched for a drink. She remained rooted by Helen’s side, honoring unspoken canon. Once Noami and Helen connected, she was free to do her thing. By now, everyone in the group they associated with was aware that Angie was happily married, and that despite all her flirting and toying with them, she was, in her own words, her “man’s thing.” They were also aware that Helen and Noami, though no one ever asked for confirmation, were in the midst of a budding romance. Helen, of course, was an off-limits writer on the down-low.
Helen was recognized, eventually, by all as a local celebrity. No one seemed to care that she was married to a state senator while stepping out with Noami. The only one who gave her any grief about it was Magda. She threw intense glares at Helen from time to time, or offered sour comments regarding Helen’s intrusion into her world that were ignored by most. Then, of course, Wire had made it her goal to harass Helen whenever she found her alone, which was not often. Angie and Noami saw to that.
By contrast, Mom’s support of Helen had been second only to Angie’s. It was from Mom, and the hours they shared talking on Helen’s visits to the coffee shop to write, that Helen learned so much about her new friend, including Noami and Wire’s failed relationship. Noami refused to talk about Wire. Mom also told Helen some of Noami’s history, and how she came to be a member of Mom’s surrogate family. One day, months before the harvest celebration, Helen sensed she was about to be privy to privileged information. She and Mom had been laughing about something Noami had told Mom about her childhood, when Mom became suddenly solemn over her second cup of black coffee. She began cautiously.
“Noami hasn’t always been who she is today. When she first started coming to the coffee shop, she was in a pretty bad relationship. Well, pretty bad from where I was standing. She was dating her college professor. That was her first real relationship, I believe.” She paused to give Helen a chance to react. “Anyway, Noami was only twenty-three, and her instructor was much older. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t the age that bothered me, so much as the relationship.
“That professor could run circles around Noami when it came to playing mind games, and she did. Poor Noami didn’t know which end to sit on, or which end to feed by the time Dr. Romaine was through with her. Noami was impressionable, you know. At that age, you want to please. However, that woman took advantage of her. She had Noami so tied up, that by the time she broke it off, Noami was a complete wreck.
“And I will tell you something else, if it weren’t for Veda and the rest of them, Noami would have gone back to her. Yes, about a year after they broke up, she came back to town looking for Noami, telling her how much she missed her and couldn’t live without her. She told her that she had made a terrible mistake leaving her, and that she wanted her to come live with her in Maine, or someplace like that. I tell you, for a minute, it looked like Noami would go, until the girls sat her down and told her she could go if she wanted, but if she did, they would never forgive her for it. So she didn’t. But that was hard for her. She was real gun shy after that. Very cautious, until Wire’s crazy ass came on the scene. That was another bad choice for Noami. Wire left her, too. Now, I suppose you know Noami can’t get rid of her. That’s a trip. Wire left Noami for their friend, and expects her to take her back when she returns to town without her partner.” Mom shook her head slowly. “It’s taken a toll on her, Helen. She’s been hurt a lot for no other reason than she gave too much of herself.”
“I understand.” That was all Helen could think to say. However, what the conversation made her understand was that Noami was just as vulnerable as she was, and they both would be best served progressing slowly.
“I’ll save you seats.” Angie kissed Helen’s cheek before heading over to a table. She looked back over her shoulder and whispered before Noami came into hearing range, “Just go for it.”
Helen nodded. She gazed appreciatively at her best friend’s departing figure silhouetted by the dark surroundings. Angie knew her so well.
Helen turned her attention toward the future. Noami was breathtaking. Helen was blown away by her natural beauty. She stood in the light of the full moon, her ginger shawl bathed in its amber illumination. In the time it took for Noami to cross fifty yards, Helen, for the first time, expressed aloud a thought she had kept to herself for weeks, “I am in trouble.” Then she smiled. “What am I doing?” As Noami approached, she began to agonize over the developing relationship with Noami. What would be the impact on her relationship with her family, her husband, and their public image? She wondered what might become of her relationship with her children and her beautiful granddaughters. Would they all hate her when they discovered her new passion? Helen loved her family. She loved her life. She had worked hard enough to nurture it into what it was. She loved where she was at the present time in her life. How did Noami figure in?
Helen did noth
ing to try to hide the smirk on her face as she and Noami walked silently toward the seats Angie had reserved for them. Where would Noami fit in her life? Noami and Helen sat so close to each other at the table, they may as well have been sitting in the same chair. Helen found comfort in the little prickle sent up her back as the fringe from Noami’s wrap tickled her bare arm. How would Noami fit into her life? For now, the answer was quite simple: however she liked.
Like many other couples at the party, Helen and Noami sneaked away from the crowd, opting to hide away in the woods bordering the field. Noami brought along a soft blanket to cushion the effects of the hard ground. They lay besides each other, alternating between speaking in hushed voices and making out before Helen said, “Carmen asked me the oddest thing. She wanted to know if I preferred kissing men to women.”
Noami sat up on the blanket. “What was your answer?”
“Women, but I couldn’t quite explain why.”
“That’s easy.” Noami relaxed again. “Men are all tongue and thrust. They have a target that they are always trying to reach. But women…” Noami’s entire demeanor changed. She spoke in an animated manner, as if she were describing a great pleasure that was beyond description. “We women kiss with our entire being. When making love, our skin becomes a conduit for sensory perception, an instrument to be played with, touched, and manipulated.” She inched her finger tips painstakingly slow up Helen’s side, and down along her bare arm. “We seek to experience pleasure throughout our whole body and to give pleasure in that way. It’s just natural for us to presume our partner feels the same way. Lovemaking with women is very different from men, because we understand our own body—a woman’s body—her needs, her ability to feel her climax in every part of her body, not a central area. Men mean well, but they have a specific region that they want to satisfy, because that is a function of being a creature with a penis where their pleasure is channeled. His climax begins and ends in his groin. He has to be stimulated there to have an orgasm. We women are lucky in that respect. We can have multiple orgasms, because our body is a conduit for stimulus. Let me try something.” Noami took the tip of Helen’s finger in her mouth and sucked gently. “What does that feel like?