by Elle Spencer
They stayed in that room for over an hour, eating birthday cake and listening to stories about Millie and Mrs. Stokely’s life together. Apparently, Millie had been named principal at another school in the district. When Mrs. Stokely met the older, stately woman, as she described her, it was love at first sight.
They danced around each other for a few months. Every once in a while, Mrs. Stokely would have a moment of boldness and flirt. Not very effectively, she said. Until one day, Millie showed up in her classroom after the kids had all gone to the lunchroom. Mrs. Stokely was wiping down the chalkboard when she felt a presence behind her. She turned and saw that Millie had crammed her tall frame into one of those little desks. She must’ve done it as the kids were shuffling out because Mrs. Stokely hadn’t heard a thing. She said Millie greeted her formally, saying, “Good afternoon, Miss Stokely. I thought maybe we could stop being so afraid and say what’s on our minds.”
Well, Mrs. Stokely said she was shaking in her red patent leather pumps because how could she possibly say what was on her mind when the only things on her mind lately were scandalous thoughts? Luckily, Millie said, “How about if I start?”
Mrs. Stokely said she gave a fervent nod. And then, Millie said the words that she would never forget as long as she lived. She said, “Miss Stokely, if you’re waiting for an invitation, I’ve given you several. But if you need one more…”
Millie never finished that sentence. She eased back out of that little desk and sauntered out the door. Mrs. Stokely said she gathered up her things and dropped half of them trying to chase Millie down the hall. Papers flew everywhere. Her shoe came off. She snagged her pantyhose. But she managed to catch up to Millie in the parking lot, and even though she was breathless, she managed to say, “I don’t need another invitation.”
She said Millie proceeded to put on her very stylish, oversized sunglasses and say, “Good. I didn’t want to have to hit you over the head with it, but I would have. For you, Miss Stokely, I would have.”
Ren seemed as engrossed in Mrs. Stokely’s storytelling as Lindsay was. It reminded her of a time in class when, instead of listening to Mrs. Stokely talk about a certain book they were reading, she sketched it. Her drawings were rudimentary at that point, but she was pretty sure that was the first time Mrs. Stokely had noticed her talent and commented on it.
As they tidied up the bedroom and stacked forks and plates, Lindsay noticed that the tired, bereft woman they’d met at the door was gone. It was as if a light had been turned back on inside Mrs. Stokely. Her eyes shone brighter, her skin had more color, and she seemed to have a new spring in her step. Could it be that the simple act most people took for granted—that of freely expressing love for another person—could change someone’s demeanor this much? Of course it could, Lindsay thought.
Mrs. Stokely went to close the bedroom door but stopped. “I think I’ll leave this door open from now on.” She grinned and then waved to hurry them along. “I’ll pack up some of that cake for Brooke. What do you say, Lindsay?”
“She’d love it, Mrs. Stokely.”
“Oh, that’s too stuffy, don’t you think? Now that you two little detectives have made my business your business, I think it’s appropriate for you to call me Joyce.” She patted Lindsay on the back and smiled as widely as Lindsay had ever seen. “And don’t make a fuss about it, or I’ll change my mind.”
They waited by the door while Mrs. Stokely busied herself in the kitchen. Ren leaned in and stole a kiss. “I couldn’t help myself,” she whispered.
Lindsay felt so proud of what they’d done, and it was all because of Ren. “You’re amazing with her, you know that?”
Ren shrugged. “I think you’re still her favorite, but I’ve moved up a few rungs on the ladder that leads to Mrs. Stokely’s heart.”
Lindsay whispered, “I really enjoyed last night. I don’t know if I told you that.”
“I think you got that message across in a pretty big way.” Ren made an explosion with her hands.
Lindsay grabbed her. “Don’t embarrass me in front of Mrs. Stokely.”
“I told you to call me Joyce. And you should know my hearing is quite excellent, girls.” Mrs. Stokely walked up and handed her the box the cake had arrived in. “Here you go. I kept a piece for myself. But I’m sure Brooke would enjoy some of that.” She turned her attention to Ren. “My dear, you simply made my day. Millie would’ve loved your spirit.”
“Well, I certainly love her style, and I loved hearing about her even more. I’m so glad we were able to celebrate her birthday with you.” Ren risked leaning in for a side hug.
Mrs. Stokely reciprocated wholeheartedly by putting her arm around Ren’s waist and giving her a good squeeze. “I hope to see you both sooner rather than later.”
“You will, Mrs., I mean, Joyce. Take care,” Lindsay said with a wave.
When they were far enough away from the house, Lindsay said, “I can’t call her Joyce. It would be like calling God’s wife Joyce instead of Mrs. God or whatever.”
Ren put up a finger. “Could we get back to how much you enjoyed last night?”
Lindsay took her arm and leaned in. “I’d love to do it again, but I told Brooke I’d stay home with her tonight.”
Ren sighed. “Yeah, I should be there for Deb tonight too.”
“Don’t want to piss off the best friends any more than we already have.”
“Patty?”
“Yeah,” Lindsay said. “She assumed that if I ever, you know, was with a woman, it would be with her.”
“Ah. Yeah, that’s a tough one. I had a crush on Deb for about fifteen minutes in college, and when I finally got over it, she still needed me to lust after her. Apparently, it fed her ego.”
“We probably shouldn’t have this conversation in front of Mrs. Stokely’s house.” Lindsay opened her car door and put the cake on the passenger seat.
“But it was just getting good.”
“Don’t worry,” Lindsay said. “I’ll stroke your ego another time.” She got in and started the engine. As she started to back up, she leaned out the window and said, “Actually, if you’re nice, I’ll stroke more than your ego.”
Chapter Ten
“Oh my God, you’re like a lovesick puppy.” Deb plopped on the sofa next to Ren. “Sending flirty texts to a certain artist?”
“It was a meme, thank you very much.” Ren put her phone down. “How’s Corey? You were so busy asking sex questions this morning, I forgot to ask.”
“You weren’t very forthcoming. How am I supposed to live out my lesbian sex fantasies vicariously through you?”
In the sexiest narrator voice she could muster, Ren said, “There they were at the Icey Shack, sharing a chocolate sundae, when the windows began to steam up around them.”
Deb elbowed her in the side. “Nope, you’ve ruined it now. It’s no longer sexy.”
“But I ate a banana split off her bare stomach.”
“Bullshit.”
Deb stared at her until Ren shrugged. “Fine, it’s bullshit. No banana splits were involved. Now, tell me where you took Corey.”
“I just wanted to get her away from everyone so she’d talk to me. We kept getting interrupted by the kids and phone calls and texts from her boyfriend, so I took her phone away, and we shopped like the bad bitches we are. I know that might seem like a reward for her bad behavior, but everything we bought was for me.”
“Oh, that’s just cruel. Like, super mean.” Ren folded her arms as if she was about to pout. “I don’t know if we can be friends anymore,” she said with a wink. “How did it go?”
“She’s such a smart kid, Ren. I’ve always said that she’s wise beyond her years, but she told me that when this hot guy started paying attention to her, it was like a hole opened up in the back of her head, and her brain drained out. The good news, however, is that this pregnancy scare woke her up. Or at least, I hope it did.”
“Thank God. Is there anything I can do to help?”
&nb
sp; “You can sit here with me for fifteen more minutes, and then you can get the hell outta my sight.”
“What? Why?”
“Because there’s a girl out there waiting for you.” Deb tilted her head. “This is serious, isn’t it?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. After years of suffering, I’ve suddenly realized that smart, beautiful women are now my type.”
“Well, it’s about time!” Deb plopped back on the sofa and rested her stocking feet on Ren’s thigh. “Wanna give me a nice foot massage? Number Two tries hard, but he loses interest so fast.”
“Oh, I live for such pleasures.” Ren took a foot and pushed on Deb’s arches with her thumbs. “It would have to be a long-distance thing with me and Lindsay. I’m not sure how well that would work.”
“Wait. You’re really that serious about her? After one night?”
“Didn’t you tell me that you knew you’d marry Colby after your first kiss?”
“I was young and stupid. He drove a muscle car. What did I know? You, however, are older and wiser and should know better than to fall in love on the first date.”
“I’ve never fallen in love with anyone on the first date. Ever. I’m just thinking out loud about the what-ifs.”
It wasn’t Ren’s style to fall so quickly for someone. In fact, Krazy Kerry had to do some persuading to even get Ren to say they were exclusive. She obviously should have listened to her initial instincts.
Lindsay was different. Special. Yes, her life was complicated, but whose wasn’t? For the right person, they could work anything out.
Deb nudged Ren with her foot. “If you fall for someone who lives in Salt Creek, you damn well better move here. Especially when that someone has a damn kid.”
“A damn kid who’s going off to college.”
“You realize the girls are looking at Williams, right? It’s, like, forty-five minutes from here. Pretty sure a two-hour drive to Logan and a quick jaunt to Paris aren’t what Lindsay or Brooke have in mind for Brooke’s freshman year. Oh, and never mind that she has a whole year of high school left.”
“Oh.” Ren knew it wasn’t realistic to think Lindsay would end up being her girlfriend, but she hadn’t really thought through the particulars of just how impractical a relationship would be. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a buzzkill?”
“All the damn time, Soda Pop. I have a teenage daughter and an adolescent husband.”
“I love it here,” Ren said. “But what would I do for a living?”
“True. You’re a terrible barista.”
Ren gasped. “I ran that place like a finely tuned machine yesterday.”
“A finely tuned chocolate milk factory, maybe.”
Ren scrunched her nose. “Yeah, sorry. A bunch of guys from the football team descended on us, and Lindsay wisely suggested we push the chocolate milk because I’m so slow making the coffee.”
“And you thanked her for that fine advice by going down on her?”
“Well, it was awfully good advice.” Ren narrowed her eyes. “Are you fishing for details about last night?”
Deb shrugged. “Just wanna know what I’m missing out on by being straight and married.”
“So much, Deb. You’re missing out on so much.”
Deb nudged Ren with her foot again. A little harder this time. “Don’t tell me that. Just tell me if that’s what you did.”
Ren shook her head. “Nope. Not what we did. I’m saving that for next time, and Jesus, I can’t wait. Like, seriously, I’m dying to—”
“Get in her pants again?” Deb threw her head back and laughed.
“See her again. But yes, that too.”
“Aww, I’m happy for you, Soda Pop. I want you to settle down with someone who really loves you, and Lindsay’s great. She’ll also be a very lucky girl if she manages to snag you.”
“Is that sappy talk?” Ren put her hand over her heart. “You mocha my heart sing, Deb Stewart.”
“Okay, smartass.” Deb waved her other foot in front of Ren’s face. “Double time on this one.”
* * *
Ren zipped up the polyester jumpsuit and buckled the matching belt. She’d never considered orange to be one of her best colors, but damn, she looked snazzy. She slipped into Millie’s orange flats and did a fist pump when they were a perfect fit. “Yes!”
She hung the white purse with the large yellow flower from her shoulder and picked up Millie’s round sunglasses off the bathroom counter, then opened the door and sauntered down the hall. She rounded the corner into the living room to whoops and whistles from Lindsay. Mrs. Stokely leaped out of her chair and held out her hands. “You look fabulous, dear. Just fabulous.” She had Ren turn in a circle. “And what a perfect fit. I don’t even need to hem it for you.”
The jumpsuit hugged Ren’s ass like nobody’s business, so she made a point of turning just right so Lindsay would have a good view. “What do you think, Linds? Could I walk the runways of Paris?”
“You can walk my runway anytime.”
Ren took note of the seductive tone in Lindsay’s voice. She’d address it later when they were alone. Possibly with her tongue.
“My Millie would approve,” Mrs. Stokely said. “You’ve made my day by trying it on.”
When Mrs. Stokely made the request that Ren try on her favorite outfit of Millie’s, she wasn’t so sure it was a good idea. Would it bring back too many memories? Would Mrs. Stokely burst into tears? So far, all she could do was clap and grin from ear to ear.
Mrs. Stokely motioned with her finger. “That zipper came in handy a time or two.” She cupped her mouth with her hand and whispered, “Easy access.”
Lindsay gasped. “Why, Mrs. Stokely!”
Ren and Mrs. Stokely responded in unison. “Joyce!”
“Oh, don’t be such a prude. We were no different from you two. Couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Millie especially liked it when I wore full skirts so she could…well, I’ll let you use your imagination.”
Oh, thank God. Ren loved seeing Mrs. Stokely’s newfound freedom, but there were limits to what she wanted to hear.
“Do you still have those skirts?” Lindsay asked. “Could I try one on?”
Mrs. Stokely chuckled. “I think you have a little bit of devil in you, girl.” She turned to walk down the hall to the bedrooms. “Follow me.”
As she went by, Lindsay said to Ren, “I just meant I’d love to see them.”
“Yeah, sure, girl,” Ren teased. “Can’t wait to see you in that skirt.”
* * *
Lindsay waited patiently while Mrs. Stokely perused every skirt she owned. Her bedroom had a different feel than Millie’s. Frillier, with lace doilies and ruffled curtains. It smelled like her too. Kind of a powdery rose scent that she’d worn forever. Her classroom even smelled like it back in the day.
The skirt Mrs. Stokely held up was shorter than Lindsay imagined. Red and white horizontal stripes. Fitted halfway down then flared a bit with pleats. Cute but conservative.
“Millie was always the stylish one,” Mrs. Stokely said. “I preferred a more classic look.” She held up another hanger. “I always paired it with this red top and wrapped this little silk scarf around my neck.” She grinned. “Please try it on, Lindsay. I’m sure it’s just your size.”
Lindsay took it into the bathroom and closed the door. The red top was short sleeved but high necked with a half zipper down the back. She got it zipped up and tucked it into the skirt. The waistband was a bit loose, but still, it looked great. She felt like she’d fit right in with the country club crowd. She just needed a cute pair of sandals.
“I have shoes for you too,” Mrs. Stokely shouted through the door.
“Perfect.” Lindsay tied the small, bandana-like scarf around her neck and opened the door. “What do you think?”
“Oh.” Mrs. Stokely covered her heart with her hands. “You look almost as good as I did in it. You just need a cute little flip hairdo.” She grabbed Lindsay’s hand. �
��Put on my red sandals, and let’s show Ren.”
Lindsay tried to imitate Ren’s model walk by swinging her hips as she walked into the living room. “How do I look?” She turned halfway around and looked over her shoulder. “Golf, anyone? Tennis? Maybe a quick round of croquet?”
Ren lowered her sunglasses. “Oh, Mama’s got a new outfit. Do that turny thing again. Yeah, I love that skirt.”
Mrs. Stokely beamed with delight. “I almost can’t believe this is happening. We had such good times in those outfits, and here you girls are, wearing them again. Oh, isn’t it just grand?”
Ren took her eyes off Lindsay long enough to witness the joy emanating from Mrs. Stokely. She swayed in place with her hands clasped as if she was soaking in the moment so she could hang on to it forever. She stopped mid-sway and said, “Hey, I have an idea. Let’s go uptown and show you girls off. That’s what we always did when we got a new outfit. We’d go up to Main Street and show it off. We’d walk from end to end, just to make sure everyone got a good look.”
“You and Millie?” Ren asked.
“No, this was when we were kids, and we got a new Easter dress or a Christmas coat or a new pair of shoes. What do you say?”
Lindsay glanced at her bare legs and sandals. “Well, it’s October.”
“That’s okay,” Mrs. Stokely said. “We’ll just go to that You Make-a-Me Crazy Place and get a drink and share a slice of that lemon cake.”
Ren just happened to take a sip of coffee at the same time Mrs. Stokely put on her best Italian accent to pronounce the name of Deb’s shop. Coffee spurted out of her mouth, but she managed to grab a napkin that got most of it. She didn’t dare catch Lindsay’s eye for fear they’d burst out into gut-busting laughter.
“In the 1979 Buick LeSabre?” Lindsay covered her mouth with her hand in an obvious attempt to control herself, then she gave Mrs. Stokely a thumbs-up. “I’m in.”
“Nobody drives my car but me.” Mrs. Stokely didn’t waste any time. She grabbed her purse and headed for the garage.