Anything Your Heart Desires

by AJ Adaire

  “Maybe.” Stacy shrugged. “This way I get my document translated and get to know two of my neighbors.” She turned and pointed to her office window. “I live up there in the second floor apartment. Anyway,” she grinned, “I never said I was treating anyone to steak. It might end up just being pizza.”

  “Well, we're in luck then.” Nic handed the papers back to Stacy. We're meeting the rest of the crew, Mallory, Amanda, and Dana, tonight at six at Antonio's for dinner. You can buy Jo dinner some other time. Tonight we'll go Dutch. However, you're welcome to join us if you'd like.”

  Stacy looked at Jo for confirmation. “Is that okay with you?”

  Jo had taken the opportunity to study Stacy while she was talking to Nic. She detected just a slight accent, definitely southern, but not the Deep South. She liked the woman's petite frame and the fact that she was not stick thin. The girl had some curves and was a little taller than Mallory and Amanda's height, maybe four inches shorter than her own five eight. Nice…just the right size. Her naturally curly, soft looking, honey brown hair was sun streaked and worn in a short style. She had huge pale green eyes and a dimple in her left cheek when she smiled. Yes, dinner could be a pleasant experience. Still, the big question had yet to be answered. Was she a lesbian? Jo didn't get any overt vibes. She did ask me out for dinner. Then again, maybe she's just the friendly type.

  “Yes, pizza for dinner works for me,” Jo replied. “And if you don't want Dana, Mallory, and Amanda handing us our heads on a plate, we'd better get a move on.”

  “I'll get the car,” Nic offered.

  “I can make it,” Jo said, instantly defensive.

  “I know you can. It would help if you'd lock up here while I get the car. I just meant it would save us time.”

  Jo put a hand on Nic’s arm. “Okay. Sorry I snapped. You know I’m trying my best to pull my own weight.”

  Stacy stepped outside while Jo turned off the lights, set the alarm, and locked the door. While they waited in front of the store, Stacy glanced down the street looking for Nic to return. “Nic is very nice and has a soothing way about her.”

  “Nic is a great friend. She and the others have been extremely kind to me since I got injured.”

  Stacy nodded her head in the direction of Jo's leg. “What happened? I see you walking back and forth a lot, exercising the leg.”

  “I got shot. There was an incident a couple of months ago at the hospital. Some lunatic shot up the ER.”

  “Oh, I read about that. Several women were injured. Which one are you? Oh wait a minute, Joanne Martini, right?”

  “Close,” Jo laughed. “Martin, like in Dean.”

  “Oh, sorry. I was close though.” Stacy shrugged and smiled showing her dimple. “You're a hero. You saved some lives that day.”

  Jo nodded and responded seriously. “Yes, I did. I also took a life that day.”

  Nic pulled up and stopped. The two women got into her car and passed the time with friendly chatter. The ride to the restaurant took only a few minutes. Dana, Mallory, and Amanda were waiting for them when they arrived.

  Nic noticed that the table was short one chair and asked the waiter to bring another. “Sure, Nicky. Right away.”

  Nic slid into the seat next to Dana. “Hi, Honey. I can't seem to break him of the habit of calling me Nicky.”

  “I kind of like it.” Dana squeezed her partner's hand.

  “Don't start, now,” Nic said flashing a smile for her partner.

  Introductions were made all around, and there was a quick discussion about what kind of pizzas to order. The friends chatted about the expedient issues of the day until the pies were served. Stacy watched the interaction between the two sets of partners, while Jo watched her watching them. Jo had a sinking feeling that Stacy might be straight.

  All eyes turned to Jo when Amanda, assuming Stacy was Jo's date, asked her how she met Stacy. “She just walked in off the street. Actually, she's our neighbor. She lives in the apartment on the corner across the street. I helped her out today.”

  Nic turned to her partners. “Did you know that Jo is fluent in French?”

  Amanda's brow furrowed. “No, I didn't. Had I thought about it, I might have figured she’d have some knowledge of it since her mother was born in France. But the two of them spoke only English when she visited us.” Amanda turned to address Jo. “How come you never mentioned it to us when we offered you the job?”

  Like a tennis match, all heads turned back to Jo. “You were all so kind to me, I felt like I would be taking advantage by mentioning it. Besides, I'm not certified. I'm just a native speaker, although I did minor in it in college. I always wished my mother was Spanish instead of French. It certainly would have been a more useful language to speak in my line of work as a policewoman. Due to the larger population of Hispanics in the area I patrolled, I’ve arrested many more Hispanics than Frenchmen. Besides, ‘you stop’ in Spanish sounds like more of a command than ‘you stop’ in French. I mean can you imagine yelling ‘vous arrêtez’ at a fleeing suspect?”

  When the laughter died down, Dana brought the conversation back to the original topic. “You know, Jo, the certification is just a matter of a few tests. If you're interested, we can make arrangements. Until then, would you like to offer a class and tutoring in French? We can offer a 'Conversations in French' class along with our Spanish and Italian classes.”

  Jo’s face registered surprise at the offer. “Really? Yeah, that would be fun.”

  Stacy joined in. “I'll sign up to be your first student. That conversation class sounds like it would be something I'd enjoy.”

  Interested in learning more about the woman, Amanda said. “So, tell us a little about yourself.”

  “Okay, I'm from Virginia…been here for about three years now. I've written three detective books. My main character is Veronica Price.”

  “Hey! I've read that series,” Jo exclaimed. “Will you autograph my copies?”

  “Sure, I'd be happy to.”

  Amanda removed the last slice of pizza from the tray and turned to Stacy. “I've read those books, too. I love that lead character. She should be a lesbian. Although, you wouldn't sell as many books if she were.”

  “Really?” Puzzled by that statement, Stacy asked, “Why would you say that?”

  That confirmed Jo's suspicions. Straight. Damn.

  Amanda responded. “Pure numbers. Think about it. It's estimated that gay people are approximately ten percent of the population. For the sake of argument, let's say half are lesbians. So, even if all of them were avid readers of detective stories, which of course they're not, your books still would only have the potential to appeal to less than five percent of the population. Since so many independent bookstores have closed access to lesbian literature has been further restricted.”

  Mallory offered her two cents. “At least it's better now that electronic books are available. It's easier to get books from lesbian authors now than it used to be. Also, if you're still closeted, you can use your e-reader and read a lesbian novel without having to hide it inside another book or in a plain brown wrapper.”

  Five of the women at the table laughed.

  Stacy looked at them incredulously. “I never even thought about that. I've so much to learn.”

  “What do you mean?” Jo asked.

  Stacy confessed to having watched the group open the business and to searching for a motive for her victim's murder. “So, that's how I got the idea that my victim would be being blackmailed for being a lesbian.”

  “Really? How common do you think that is?” Jo asked.

  Dana raised an eyebrow. “I have a friend in Maine, Stephanie. She's an Investment Advisor. She was actually blackmailed by an ex-lover trying to wring money out of her.”

  “Still, I don't think that's something that happens every day.” Jo leaned forward and looked from Amanda to Stacy. “Don't they tell you authors to write what you know?”

  Ignoring Jo’s question, Stacy asked, “Auth
ors? Amanda, are you an author, too?”

  “Yes, I am.” Amanda looked pointedly at Jo. “And what are the odds of that, Jo? It's certainly possible that her victim could be being blackmailed. And as for writing what you know, half the books in the world would never be written if someone hadn't researched their information before they wrote about it.”

  “Maybe she's right,” Stacy admitted. “I don't know anything about the lesbian lifestyle.”

  Jo exhaled sharply making a 'pffft' sound with her lips as she rolled her eyes.

  “What did I say?” Stacy looked from one woman to another, both eyebrows raised, her concern evident.

  Their exchange was interrupted as the waiter delivered another pizza. Conversation stopped as everyone eagerly grabbed another slice.

  Stacy turned to Jo. “What did I say that was wrong?”

  “It's not wrong exactly. It's just that straight people think of my life as a 'lifestyle'. I think of my life as a life. Do you live a heterosexual lifestyle? Or do you just live your life as a woman who happens to be heterosexual?”

  “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend. Maybe I should change my motive,” she said, a sad expression clouding her face.

  Amanda jumped in. “Don't be silly. It's a great motive. You just need to do your research, that's all.”

  “Is there a place, a place you go to meet, or a magazine or newspaper that I could post an advertisement for someone to help me learn what it's like to be a lesbian. You know, things that I might need to know for my novel.”

  “Well, you're off to a good start. You've made friends with us,” Amanda said, a kind expression on her face. “And since we're all lesbians, you'll learn about our lives from us. But, the four of us,” Amanda pointed to her partner, Nic, and Dana, “are all about to be married. Jo is the only single one of the bunch, so she'd be the best resource for your book.” Seeing Jo's reaction to her suggestion only spurred Amanda on. “You don't need to post an ad, just hire Jo.” Jo looked on in horror. “Maybe Jo would allow you to shadow her for four to six weeks and answer all your questions in exchange for your helping her at home. She'd be a great tutor in the ways of the single lesbian.”

  Jo was shaking her head as she faced a losing battle. Obviously, from their expressions, she was the only one of the five friends who thought the idea sucked.

  When the meal ended with the only evidence of the pizza’s existence the crumbs in the empty trays, they all stood and gathered their belongings. Nic handed Jo the keys to her car. “Why don't you drive Stacy home? I'll see you at work tomorrow and collect my keys. I'll catch a ride home with Dana.”

  The ride back to drop Stacy off was silent until Stacy broke the ice with her first question. “Why are you so opposed to helping me?”

  “I just don't think it's a good idea.” Jo shrugged her shoulders. “I mean, what will you gain other than the knowledge of one single lesbian's life? It would be like me following you around and making conclusions about heterosexual women based on that brief glimpse into your day-to-day life.” She snorted. “Anyway, lately my life consists of going to work and limping around the block. I haven't been out on a date in…well, virtually forever.” She opted not to consider or reveal her embarrassing tryst with Meg. “You'll surely get a skewed viewpoint.”

  “But I like you and I trust that you'd be honest with me. You and your friends just seem like regular people who happen to be lesbians. That's something I'd like to convey in my book.”

  Jo was silent, first considering and then liking the response.

  “Besides, Amanda said that you could use some help at home. What did she mean by that?”

  “I just moved back to my house after living with Amanda and Mallory while I recovered. They took care of me until I got back on my feet.” Jo smiled then hunched one shoulder. “I still need help with things like shopping. Cooking is a bit difficult, too. Standing for any length of time is still hard for me, although I think I'm getting a little better every day.”

  “Okay, let me help you. Move in with me for six weeks. You'll be right across the street from work. I'll cook, shop, and do whatever else you need. In exchange, you'll teach me about being a lesbian.”

  “This is a ridiculous premise. You'll still have no clue even if I lived with you twice that time. It's not about external things. It's internal. It's identity. Then there's sex. Until you have sex with another woman, you'll never understand completely. Don't get me wrong. It's not only about which gender you want to have sex with. It’s also about being comfortable in your skin. This whole idea just makes no sense.”

  “All right, how's this? I'll pay your rent on your place. You move in with me. I'll make your dinner, buy your food, take you shopping, and help you in any other way I can. In return, I want you to do your best to answer all my questions honestly and to educate me to the ways of your world. You're right. This experience will be incomplete for me, due to my own limitations, not yours. I'll never know completely what it's like to be a lesbian because our deal does not include my having sex with a woman. Still, this arrangement should suffice to give me enough information to write my novel and not have you, and others like you, read my book and roll their eyes as they're doing it.”

  Jo shook her head. She had no doubt that it was a crazy idea. However, knowing her own limitations, Jo also recognized that being home alone for the past few days had been tough. What the hell. I don't have anything to lose. If I hate it I can always leave. “This makes no sense to me, but it's your dime. I'm willing to give it a try. When do we start?”

  Not wanting to give Jo an opportunity to reconsider, Stacy said, “Right now. Let's go to your house and get your stuff before you change your mind.”

  Jo laughed. “You have to be the most determined woman I've ever met. Okay, let's go.”

  Two hours later, Stacy carried two suitcases of Jo's belongings up the stairs into her apartment. “Can you manage the stairs?”

  “Yeah. I just have to go slow, using my good leg. The therapist taught me up with the good leg and down with the bad. She said it’s like people. Good people go up to heaven and bad people go down to hell. Get it?” When Stacy nodded, Jo added, “It's tedious but doable. The cane and the handrail will help.”

  Stacy showed Jo to her office. There was a day bed in there that she used for guests. She lifted the suitcases to the bed. “I’ll give you some privacy. We'll have to share the bath. I'll clean out a drawer in there for you so you’ll have a place for your toiletries. You get the top left drawer of the vanity.” Pausing at the doorway, Stacy gave a quick smile. “Come out to the living room when you've unpacked.”

  As Jo unpacked, her mind raced. How the hell did I let myself get hooked into this? It's ridiculous. It was that damned dimple, and that cute ‘almost accent’ she has. I just couldn't say no. I'll probably bore her to death in the next six weeks. An added bonus is that I’ll be right across the street from work. Truth was, if Jo were to admit it she was having a hard time being home alone. It would also make her less dependent on her friends. If she put the pain and suffering aside, she’d enjoyed living with Amanda and Mallory and being around Dana and Nic while she recovered. Now, if home alone, she found that she could easily become depressed. Despite the counseling she’d received after the shooting, when she had time to think, she still had flashes of slow motion memories. She recalled Meg's head snap back as it hit the stretcher and saw Mallory turn and grab her arm. She thought about the guy she’d shot and the look on his face as he died. Being around other people helped her to restrict her recollections to her dreams rather than allowing them to invade all of her waking hours. After stowing her gear, Jo made her way to the living room.

  “Did you get everything put away? Want a cup of coffee?” Stacy asked.

  “Yes, and no. All my gear is stowed. If you have decaf tea, I'll take a cup of that instead of coffee,”

  Stacy left for the kitchen and returned shortly with tea in hand.

  “I can't believe we're doing th
is. We should probably both be committed. We don't know anything about each other, and in less than eight hours after meeting each other, we're living together.” Jo laughed. “It's even worse than that old lesbian joke.”

  “What lesbian joke?”

  “Oh, yeah. Well, lesson one. There is a belief that lesbians pair up almost immediately after they meet. So the joke is, 'What does a lesbian bring on the second date?’ Jo waited, smiling as she watched Stacy’s brow furrow as her mind searched for a response. “Give up?”

  “Yes. What does a lesbian bring on a second date?”

  Jo giggled. “A U-Haul. Get it?”

  “I guess. That's funny?”

  “See, I told you this wouldn't work,” Jo said, shaking her head.

  “Don't give up so fast. Besides, I probably know more about you than you know about me. There was a lot of information about you in the newspaper when you saved your friends. I know you have a degree in criminology, that you have an exemplary record on the police force...”

  “Had. I had an exemplary record.” Jo slapped her leg. “I had to retire.”

  “Retire? You're too young to retire.”

  “Yeah, I know. I'm still washed up at forty-two. My leg will never be right. I might be able to get it to improve. Unfortunately, I'll never be a cop again.”

  Stacy took a sip of her tea. “It seems that when one door closes another opens. Look, it appears that you'll be working with your friends. They seem like a great group of women.”

  “They are. I owe them a great deal.”

  “Is Amanda the leader of the pack?”

  Jo smiled. “I think she is right now because the business was her idea. But each one is strong in her own way.”

  “Tell me about each of them.”

  Jo stirred her tea, took a sip, and began. “Well, Amanda is an author, as you already know. She and Mallory just got together a few months ago, around the same time Nic and Dana started their relationship. Mallory, the Director of Nursing at the hospital, decided to resign her full time supervisory position to return to part time nursing when the four of them decided to open the business. Nic and Dana met when they were both working for a company as translators on a job in Rome.”