#SandyBottom

by Alexi Venice

  When she looked into Amanda’s eyes, Jen felt alive. The universe was full. The world held potential. Her life had meaning. When they were together, the energy poured off Amanda and spilled into Jen’s soul, making life worthwhile. Jen’s nerve endings sprang to life and her heart beat faster.

  She also wanted to show off to Amanda by running farther, biking more miles and lifting heavier weights. She felt super-human when Amanda’s attention was on her, propelling her to accomplish new feats.

  Jen wanted to be a better doctor, increasing her intellect and skill level to show Amanda that she was capable and smart. There was a new vigor in her medical curiosity, the kind that had driven her through medical school in the first place. If she didn’t have Amanda in her life to share her journey, the sparkle of the journey faded. I love a horribly flawed woman .

  Jen had a longing in her stomach and a hollowness in her chest that ached for Amanda. Her wit. Her charm. Her cunning mind. Her cunnilingus. Her charisma. All the “C” words. Jen wanted to possess her completely and totally, as much as one human could possess another. Without Amanda, Jen felt only half-alive. Unfortunately, and to Jen’s chagrin, Amanda completed her; stirred a passion deep within Jen that she hadn’t even realized was there until she had met her.

  Jen banged the steering wheel, pissed that she missed Amanda with all her heart. God, how can I feel this lost without someone? It isn’t fair. She betrayed me with Roxy. Now, I can’t live without her. Why did You give her this power over me?

  There was no substitute for Amanda. Jen loved Kristin with all her heart, but it was a maternal love, not the passionate love of a soulmate that completely and totally consumed her beyond her control. Try as she might to block Amanda from her life, she couldn’t get rid of her. The week’s activities of skiing, swimming, talking and playing cards with her family, and playing on the beach with Kristin and Tommy, had kept her mind occupied, but buried deep within her was a burning desire that fed off Amanda. Only Amanda. Amanda was air to Jen, and Jen resented the hell out of it.

  How can she do this to me? Unwind my life. Give me a taste of what true love was then betray me with that Scottish savant? How am I ever going to get over her? How will I go on? How can I concentrate on my life? My job? Raising a daughter? My soul has a hole in it in the shape of Amanda.

  Jen took the exit for New Auburn and turned onto County Highway M. She couldn’t shake Amanda’s image—as big and bright as the sun in her mind, burning just as hot. The problem was that Roxy, in all her Scottish glory, was a fatality to their relationship. No, that wasn’t true. Amanda surrendering to Roxy’s seduction had been fatal.

  Amanda could have any woman, and women constantly hit on her. She was sexy and sought after. Jen had experienced women openly hit on Amanda even when Jen was by Amanda’s side and introduced as her fiancée. Amanda was a fucking Rockstar among lesbians. And, Jen had the misfortune of having fallen in love with her. Hopelessly in love.

  What did I do to deserve this bad karma? Were we a couple in a previous life, and I fooled around on her? Is this payback?

  She craved Amanda’s attention. She needed Amanda’s mischievous eyes, her soft, plump lips, her strong arms wrapped around her. She needed to kiss every inch of Amanda’s body.

  Jen’s heart ached. Her head ached. Her limbs felt like they had run a marathon. How can love physically affect me this way?

  She fought back the urge to cry. To release her broken heart. It was either cry or run for miles. Maybe to the other side of the earth.

  “God, I miss her so much,” she whispered.

  Admitting it out loud broke Jen’s emotional dam. Tears spilled over her blonde lashes. She blinked them away, so she could see the road, but her effort was in vain. She hadn’t cried in a while, and the loss of control made her cry even harder. She so wished she could contain her emotions about Amanda, but was coming to understand that their chemistry was more powerful than the rational side of her brain. Jen’s soul—her very existence—seemed inexplicably tied to Amanda.

  She cried and cried as she drove, soaking her flannel with tears, now admitting that she actually missed Amanda. She loved her and wished she didn’t love someone this much. She wasn’t, and feared she never would be, complete without Amanda. And, last but not least, Jen had tried sex with someone else, and, while physically hot, it hadn’t compared to the soul-wrenching she had with Amanda.

  Revenge fucks weren’t what they were cracked up to be. Now, shame and guilt crept in where revenge had once resided. Great. Another emotion to deal with. I feel guilty about a revenge fuck. Is this how Amanda felt after sleeping with Roxy?

  Jen cried until she reached Highway 40 then turned north. She managed to get her shit together before she pulled into the wooded driveway of her parents’ compound, but just barely.

  Twenty-Sex

  The welcoming party of Yaner and Buster sang a full chorus for Jen’s return to the lake. Straining at the edge of their Invisible Fence, the dogs jumped over each other as they watched Jen get out of the car and retrieve her bag. As soon as she set foot on the brick walkway, Buster, Kay’s shelter dog, sprang up to Jen’s waist for quick kisses on her hands. She bent down and roughed them up, scratching behind their ears. Quivering with excitement, Buster backed up to Jen, signaling that he wanted to be picked up. She scooped him up, and he kissed her chin as they made their way to the cabin.

  She opened the front door and spotted Kristin playing with Tommy in the living room. Jen set down Buster and joined them.

  “Mommy home! Mommy home!” Kristin jumped into Jen’s arms.

  “How’s my baby girl?”

  Kristin hugged Jen’s neck so tightly that Jen could barely breath.

  “Missed mommy that much, huh?”

  Kristin nodded.

  “Welcome back, Jen. How was your trip?” Kay asked from the kitchen island, where she was preparing the familiar lunch spread.

  “It was fine. Thanks again for taking care of Kristin.” Even though Jen had tried to sound positive, Kay cast a curious glance, probably detecting the flat undertone in Jen’s voice and the blotchy streaks on her face.

  “Wet!” Kristin declared of the collar on Jen’s flannel, holding it in her chubby fingers.

  “Yes. Mommy spilled water on my shirt while I was driving,” Jen fibbed.

  “Maybe Mommy needs a sippy cup,” Tommy said, as he rose from the living room floor.

  Kay squinted at the front of Jen’s flannel, making Jen feel like a teenager getting busted for drinking and smoking. “How was Dr. Olson? Did you like his clinic?”

  “Um. Okay. Sort of,” Jen said.

  Roger looked up from a book he was reading at the dining table. “Just okay, huh?”

  Kay paused from food prep, focusing intently on Jen.

  Might as well get this over with . “To be honest, I’m not sure the physician practice clicked with me. It was a preliminary visit, and they’re all very nice people, but I’m not sure I want to pursue it.”

  Tommy looked up from washing his hands and locked eyes with Jen.

  She saw the Italian sweetness in him so clearly. The compassion. The tenderness. The love. He also could read her as well as anyone. She gave him a small, reassuring smile. Satisfied, he dried off his hands and began slicing cheese.

  “What didn’t you like about it?” Kay asked.

  “Just the intangibles, you know? That’s why you visit a place before you take a job, to get a feel for the culture. It’s a very respectable clinic with very accomplished physicians. I’ll give them that.”

  “But?” Roger asked.

  But they’re too corporate and buttoned-up for me, Jen thought. “It made me realize how valued I am at the Cohen Clinic and what a loyal panel of patients I have. I really like my practice and partners in San Francisco, so it would take a lot to lure me away from them.” She filled a sippy with water and gave it to Kristin.

  Tommy wisely remained silent, but she could tell by his relaxed body languag
e that he was pleased with what she was saying. He had been polite but clear the previous morning over coffee that he wanted her to stay in San Francisco.

  She lay a hand on his shoulder and gave it a squeeze. If he suspected that her decision had something to do with keeping him in Kristin’s life, he was right. If he suspected further that her decision had something to do with her overnight stay at Victoria’s, he would be right about that too.

  “Take your time,” Kay said. “We’ll support whatever decision you make.” Jen could hear the disappointment in Kay’s voice, and it killed her to have raised her parents’ hopes only to dash them. Before Jen could say something soothing to Kay, Kay walked to the screened porch and told Jake and Patrick that lunch was ready. They paused their cribbage game and came inside.

  “Hey, stranger,” Patrick said when he entered the kitchen.

  “Hi,” Jen said.

  Jake didn’t say anything but tapped the side of his neck, signaling to Jen that she might have a love bite on her neck. She pulled the damp collar of her flannel up a little higher to cover it. He laughed, indicating he was messing with her yet again.

  She flipped him off behind their parents’ backs.

  Everyone built a sandwich as they made their way through the lunch buffet, Jen making a plate for Kristin but not herself. Kristin sat on Jen’s lap and ate, staying glued to her mother. Over lunch, Kay filled Jen in on absolutely, positively everything Kristin had said and done—all adorable—in Jen’s absence.

  Jen hugged Kristin, bouncing her a few times on her knee, and the dogs crowded around Jen’s legs under the table, having concluded that Kristin was their best bet for scraps. Sizeable bites of food slipped from her fingers, and sometimes, she purposefully threw food at them just for grins and giggles.

  Jen noticed that no one asked her about Victoria, for which she was relieved. Even Jake had the good sense not to go there in front of Tommy and their parents. Turnabout being fair play, she was sure he was protecting himself if ever in the same position.

  Out of the blue and entirely off-topic, which was so Patrick, he asked, “Who wants to watch the Perseid meteor shower tonight? It’s supposed to be one of the best—like 10 shooting stars per minute.”

  “That sounds like fun,” Jen said. “We should build a fire and have s’mores.”

  “I don’t believe I’ve ever had the pleasure of seeing the Perseid meteor shower,” Tommy said. “I’ve seen it mentioned on the local news, but the pollution from the city lights has always prevented me from seeing it.”

  “It’s super dark here. You’ll see how spectacular it is.” Patrick turned to Jen. “A fire will attract the mosquitos, and the glow will obscure the meteor show. Let’s nix the fire.”

  “Mosquitos and meteors,” Jake mocked. “You’re such a dork. Since when do mosquitos and meteors derail a fire?”

  “Do what you want,” Patrick said, “but I’m going to stand on the end of the dock where the visibility will be better.”

  “Right. No mosquitos down there,” Jake said sarcastically. “I’ll spray the camp fogger around the fire pit, and fifteen minutes later, there won’t be any mosquitos.”

  “I don’t know if I want Kristin running around in the grass after you’ve sprayed that,” Jen said.

  “She’s not supposed to run in the grass where I’ve sprayed,” Jake said. “I’ll stick to the edge of the lawn, far away from the fire pit. Just keep her on the brick circle, and she’ll be fine.”

  Jen exchanged glances with Kay. “I’ll supervise the spraying tonight,” Jen said.

  “Is she always this bossy?” Jake asked Tommy.

  Tommy raised his hands. “Don’t put me in the middle.”

  Jen looked from Jake, who was grumpy today, to Tommy, who gave her an adoring smile. Was I bossy when I lived with Tommy? Amanda doesn’t think I’m bossy, does she? Jen immediately shook off the thought as the worst type of dependence.

  A pang of shame surged through her as she sat at the table, surrounded by her loving family, including Tommy, who had always been loyal to her. She felt a little tarnished from sex with Victoria, but she had never felt this way after being with Amanda, or even Tommy for that matter. She was an adult who had every right to begin a relationship with another adult. Maybe it was the light kink that gave rise to the grimy after-taste. She found herself on the verge of crying again, not comprehending all the confusion coursing through her.

  She looked down at her ring finger—again. No ring. She had removed the diamond band Amanda had given her and left it in San Francisco. Her finger felt naked without it even though she had worn it for a very short time. Several times per day, she found her thumb reaching over to roll the nonexistent ring. Today, its absence not only reminded her of Amanda but also exacerbated her guilt.

  She felt like she wanted a shower, but she already had done that at Victoria’s. Maybe changing out of her clothes into something for the lake life would help. It was already too hot and humid for jeans anyway.

  “Earth to Jen,” Jake was saying.

  She snapped her head up. “What?”

  “We’re gonna go skiing. Wanna come?” he asked.

  “Maybe in a bit. I have some stuff to do first.”

  She hopped up from the table, set Kristin in her vacated chair, and got the dishrag to wipe off Kristin’s fingers, which the dogs were now licking.

  The men cleared the table and began packaging up the leftovers on the kitchen island.

  “Something on your mind, dear?” Kay asked.

  “That obvious, huh?” Jen asked.

  “I can tell by the look on your face that you’re troubled,” Kay said.

  Jen couldn’t stop the downward spiral of her lips, and the tears from clouding her eyes. “I’m sorry.” She covered her face and rushed toward the bedroom wing.

  Not fully aware of her intentions, she found herself standing in her parents’ bedroom, sobbing. Kay joined her a minute later, and guided Jen to the edge of the bed where they both sat on the soft comforter.

  Kay rubbed Jen’s back as the tears flowed.

  “I just—”

  “Let it all out,” Kay said.

  Jen was shocked her body contained this amount of tears. She thought she had cried them all out on her way up to the lake. “I don’t know how she does this to me.”

  “Who? What?”

  “Amanda. She makes me feel guilty for leaving her, but it was all her fault,” Jen hiccoughed. “All her fault.”

  “What was?” Kay asked.

  “Amanda fooled around on me six months ago,” Jen said. “Sure, I forgave her, and we got back together, but a photo of her with her ex-lover surfaced.”

  “Ahh,” Kay said. “That had to hurt.”

  “More than I realized,” Jen rasped. “I didn’t know I could get so crazed.”

  Kay stifled a laugh.

  “What?” Jen asked.

  “You? Crazed?” Kay said in an exaggerated tone, as if saying those two words together couldn’t possibly be true.

  “I’ve never acted crazy!” Jen exclaimed.

  “You have a temper like your father’s.” Kay patted Jen’s leg. “He’s mellowed with age, but he used to blow a gasket every now and then.”

  Jen regarded her mother. “I never knew that.”

  “There was no reason for you to know,” Kay said. “We didn’t fight in front of you kids, but we had our share of fights.”

  Jen hung her head. “I have to admit that I threw Amanda’s phone over the balcony into the street, smashing it to smithereens.”

  “That sounds like a Dawson,” Kay said. “Your dad once broke a door frame because he slammed the door so hard.”

  Jen laughed despite herself, then covered her mouth. “Amanda deserved it.”

  “I’m sure she did. How do you feel about her now?”

  “Honestly?”

  “That’s the only way to confront your feelings.”

  “I love her.” Jen looked down at her hands.
“I always have.” She paused a minute, then said into the heavy air. “She’s my soulmate, but she has some serious issues, you know?”

  “What kind of issues?” Kay inquired, no hint of judgment in her voice.

  Jen felt hot embarrassment rising in her chest. She didn’t want to admit Amanda’s faults to her mother, because she wanted Kay to respect Amanda. “Ah…Amanda is sort of a narcissist with an addictive personality, and she can be self-destructive sometimes.”

  “What’s she addicted to?” Kay’s asked softly but seriously.

  “Everything,” Jen said. “Work. Yoga. Cello. Me. Kristin. Cigarettes. Wine. Drugs. Painkillers. At least before her stint in rehab. She doesn’t know how to do anything in moderation.”

  “That can make your role as her partner pretty tricky.”

  “Tell me about it.” Jen was impressed with her mother’s insight. “I refuse to police her, yet I won’t be a doormat either. Kristin is too important to me to raise in a household of deception.”

  “Did you tell Amanda that?”

  “Yes,” Jen said.

  “How did she take it?”

  “Really well,” Jen paused for a minute. “Surprisingly well. In fact, she’s making great strides.”

  “Good for her,” Kay said. “And a narcissist, huh?” Kay asked.

  “A mild one.”

  “Please assure me you aren’t her flying monkey,” Kay said.

  “What?”

  “I’m surprised you don’t know the phrase, being a doctor and all. A flying monkey does the narcissist’s bidding.”

  “Oh God, Mom. I’d never do anything like that. She has a campaign manager, Chance, who does all her dirty work.” Jen paused and thought a minute. “And her father, Jack. He’s always covering her tracks and arranging stuff in the background.”

  They sat in silence a minute, both absorbing Jen’s observations.

  “And all of this came to a head, so that’s why she isn’t here?” Kay asked.

  “Sort of. I disinvited her over a selfie of her and Roxy, the MI-6 agent with whom Amanda had an affair.”