Anything Your Heart Desires
Page 8
“We'll be back soon,” Nic said, zipping her coat.
“You don't have to leave for like twenty minutes yet. The guy said the food won't be ready for half an hour,” Jo countered.
“That's okay, we have to stop back across the street. Uh, I have to um, pick up my glasses,” Nic said over her shoulder as Dana hurried her down the stairs.
When the door closed, everyone began to laugh except Stacy. “Did I miss something?”
“Not really.” Amanda replied. “It's just that Nic is so honest, she’s completely incapable of prevarication.”
“Well then, what did she lie about?” Stacy looked from one face to another waiting for an explanation. Looking for an answer, she finally settled on Jo.
“Well, the amusing thing is that Nic doesn't wear glasses.”
The peals of laughter started again. This time Stacy joined in the laughter.
Mallory sighed. “Hope everyone likes lukewarm Chinese food.”
Amanda grinned mischievously. “Let's give them twenty five minutes, then call them and tell them to get a move on. If they are going to keep sneaking off for a quickie, they're going to have to learn to be quicker about it.”
Forty-five minutes later, Nic and Dana showed up with the food. Mallory took the bags from them, then casually asked, “Did you get your ‘um, uh, glasses,’ Nic?”
Nic quickly looked to Dana for help. Dana went to her lover and put an arm around her waist. “You guys suck! They're just jealous, Honey. Pay them no mind.”
Everyone laughed good naturedly at the teasing. Eventually even Nic joined in the laughter at her expense. Dinner conversation was lively with everyone taking turns telling of events of the day to illustrate how happy they were with the successful results of their open house.
Amanda gained everyone's attention. “Stacy made a good suggestion to Dana and me today. Since the coupon worked so well for the local community, she suggested we target small and mid-sized companies and offer to do their translating for them in exchange for a discount. Thanks, Stacy, it was a great suggestion.”
Stacy acknowledged the compliment with a smile and a nod.
Amanda tipped her head, eyes twinkling. “I've been thinking about that idea ever since Stacy suggested it. Suppose we offer them a small discount of say five or ten percent below their current costs. To lessen the impact on our bottom line, in exchange for the discount we can offer them a contract for a specified amount of time, say maybe five percent for six months and ten percent for a year. Hopefully, they'll be so satisfied with our services that they'll keep us on at the end of their contract.” Amanda looked around surveying reactions to the suggestion. “Let's see how they make out first. We have to balance getting enough work to keep us busy with not so much that we're swamped. We want to keep our turnaround time quick.” When everyone nodded, Amanda said, “Good. Then we’re all agreed on our plan?”
“Enough business. How about a change of subject?” Mallory glanced around the table at each of her friends. “Has anybody heard any good jokes lately?” When nobody responded, Mallory volunteered “No? Well, I’d love to credit whoever told the joke first, but it was emailed to me the other day with no reference to who authored the joke. I heard it a long time ago. I think it bears retelling. It’s pretty funny.” Encouraged by the chorus of ‘let’s hear it,’ and ‘tell it,’
Mallory proceeded. “All right, here goes. An old cowboy outfitted with a cowboy shirt, hat, jeans, spurs, and chaps, the whole nine yards, goes into a bar and orders a drink. As he sits there drinking his whiskey, a young woman sits down next to him. After she orders her drink, she turns to the cowboy, looks him up and down and says, 'Are you a real cowboy?' He tips his hat back and says, 'Well, I've spent my whole life on the ranch, herding cows, breaking horses, and mending fences, so I reckon I am.' He looks her up and down and says, 'What about you?'
She replies, 'I've never been on a ranch. I am a lesbian. I spend my whole day thinking about women. I get up in the morning thinking of women. While I work, when I eat, shower, or watch TV, I think about women. It doesn't matter what I do, everything makes me think of women.' They sit quietly for a while, and when she finishes up her drink, she leaves him sitting there. The cowboy orders another drink as a couple comes in and sits down next to him. They look him up and down and ask, 'Are you a real cowboy?' The cowboy looks them dead in the eyes and responds, 'I always thought I was, but I just found out that I'm a lesbian!'“
A burst of laughter from everyone at the table served to reward Mallory’s efforts.
“Who wants coffee or tea?” Stacy asked after the laughter died down. Orders were placed for their beverages of choice. While Stacy got out the cups and made the drinks, Nic and Dana helped clear the table and stack the dishes. Jo came into the kitchen with the last of the remnants from dinner.
Jo slipped an arm around Nic’s waist. “Hey, Nic, Stacy and I were talking today about coming out to our parents. I told her you came out to your mom over Christmas when she was here. Would you mind telling Stacy about it?”
Draping an arm idly across Jo’s shoulder, Nic smiled in recollection. “Well, after she was here a few days, she was totally smitten with Dana, of course. Isn’t everyone? The fact that Dana speaks Italian surely didn't hurt. Anyway, I didn't have to tell her. She told me. She cornered me in the kitchen one morning. ‘Nicolina,’ she said, ‘I hate being without your father, so I know being alone is no good. Vivere da soli è molto triste. I have prayed you wouldn't know the same loneliness. I'm happy you have found Dana.’ Then she hugged me and that was it. I do suspect that Mallory's mother may have had a hand in there somewhere, although she denies it. Then again, there's always that wink she gave me both times I asked her.” Nic gave Jo’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’m a lucky woman, don’t you think?”
With the kitchen sorted, the three rejoined the group. The coffee and tea was poured and they drank their beverages, conversation waned as everyone was tired. “Stacy,” Dana said, standing up to carry her cup to the kitchen. “I hate to break up the party. I've got some work I have to finish up before tomorrow morning. It was nice of you to invite us all over. Thank you.”
The rest of the group agreed that it was time for them to go as well. Within five minutes, everyone had hugged and kissed both Stacy and Jo good-bye and disappeared down the stairs. Stacy locked up and joined Jo back upstairs. Jo was standing at the kitchen sink washing down two ibuprofen tablets with a large glass of water.
“Got a lot of pain in your leg?”
Jo shrugged. “Just a bit,” she admitted. “I’ve been on it all day, and just now I think I sat too long.”
“Will rubbing it help? I can massage it. Didn't you say that Mallory used to massage it for you?”
Jo was torn. On one hand, she recalled her reaction, or perhaps her response would be a better term to use, to the slow relaxing kneading Stacy had done as they sat resting during their walk. Another issue was her scar. Of her friends, only Mallory had seen the ugly wound the bullet and the surgery had left. Still, she knew that she'd have a much better night's sleep if her muscles were relaxed before she turned in for the night. “Yeah, I did. But she's a nurse.”
“If it'll help, I could wear white.” The dimple flashed and did its job, eliciting a chuckle from Jo.
“Okay, thanks. I'd appreciate it. The massage, I mean, not the other,” Jo said blushing.
“Come on, your room.”
Jo preceded Stacy down the hallway. Stacy made a short detour into the bathroom. When Stacy joined Jo in the bedroom, she had a bottle of lotion in her hand. Jo stood in the center of the room motionless.
“So, take your jeans off,” Stacy demanded.
“Why? That's not necessary. You can massage me like you did this afternoon through my jeans.”
“No way. I about rubbed all the skin off my hands. Drop 'em.”
There is that annoying dimple again. Jo envisioned placing her lips there and teasing the depression with her tongue.
Resorting to a different tactic, Jo said, “For a straight girl, you seem pretty eager to get my pants off of me.”
Stacy tipped her head slightly to the side and smirked. “No, that's not going to work, either. Come on, be a big girl, and take your medicine. Look, I'm modest, but you're being ridiculous.”
“I'm not modest. It's just, ah what the hell.” She unzipped her pants and stepped out of them, quickly searching Stacy's face for her reaction. Instead of the look of revulsion she expected, all she found there was concern and caring.
“I'm glad we're doing this tonight. Tomorrow, if I have to massage your leg on our walk, I'll know better where to touch you. Here, put this towel on the bed and get in.”
Stacy's matter of fact attitude and kindness encouraged Jo to comply with her instructions.
“Move over a bit.” Stacy sat on the edge of the bed, squeezed some lotion into her palm, and waited for it to warm in her hand. As she began the massage, her touch was gentle. “Show me where it's most tender and where it hurts the most.”
Jo pointed to the most sensitive area. “This is still pretty tender here. My whole thigh seems to knot up.” She pointed. “Especially here.”
“Okay, I’ve got it. Just relax as best you can, and I'll see if I can make you feel better.” Stacy began to massage, gently rubbing her fingers up Jo's thigh until she felt a knot, which she would knead until it relaxed. Stacy was pleased to notice that once every knotted muscle had been ministered to, the frown line between Jo's brows relaxed and her eyes closed. She added additional lotion to her palm and started on the other thigh.
Jo's eyelids snapped open. “What are you doing?”
“Working on your good leg? You probably don’t realize that you abuse this one when you favor the other one. Please don't give me a hard time. Can't you just accept a gift gracefully and say thank you?”
A look of sadness flashed across Jo's face. “No. That's generally pretty hard for me to do.” Jo lightened the tension with a grin. “But for you I'll make an exception because that feels so good.”
Stacy finished massaging Jo’s thigh. “Want your calves done?
“No. Although I appreciate the offer, you must be tired by now. I think I'll be able to get a few good hours tonight, thanks to you.”
Stacy stood up. Before she turned to leave, she brushed Jo's hair back from her forehead and then cupped her cheek with her palm. “I'm thankful you allowed me to give that to you. Now, sleep well.” For some inexplicable reason, she didn't want to leave Jo. She forced herself to pull her hand away and went down the hall to her own room.
Chapter 10
JO OPENED HER EYES but didn't move. Stacy was at the computer. Jo took the opportunity to study her. Cute. Her eyes and that damned dimple are her best features. She went through the rest—nice body, petite but not skinny, full breasts, wavy honey brown hair cut short and nicely styled. Stacy had a way of running her fingers through her hair that made Jo want to replicate the action with her own fingers. She imagined the feel, the touch of what she was sure were soft and silky strands, magically falling back into place as they did for Stacy. She knew that if Stacy turned around, there would be a flash of pale green eyes, much lighter than her own. a pure shade similar in color to that collectable depression glass.
If I had a checklist of every physical characteristic that appeals to me, Stacy would achieve a perfect score. Jo knew she was not only attracted by Stacy’s physical attributes. She found Stacy’s personality appealing, as well. A good sense of humor, an inquisitive and intelligent mind, quick wit, and an easy-going manner all added to her charm. She wasn’t a pushover, though. Jo recalled that Stacy had stood her ground and had gotten her way last night about the massage without being aggressive or demanding. Stacy also had her using a companion chair, something that Mallory had encouraged previously, but Jo had steadfastly and stubbornly resisted. How had that happened? Remember rule number two, she reminded herself, no straight women. Jo shifted in bed. Turning on her side, she propped her head on her hand.
Jo’s movement caused Stacy to turn around. “Good morning, sleepyhead. I was worried I'd wake you. I've been here for forty five minutes and you haven't budged, so I guess I didn't disturb you.”
“I admit that I slept like the dead last night. I got up to use the bathroom around five, figuring that would be it. But my leg still felt okay, so I climbed back into bed and, amazingly, I fell back asleep.”
Stacy stood up and grabbed the lotion on her way over to Jo's bed. She grabbed the sheet and said, “May I?”
“What?”
“We had good success with the massage last night. Let's see if we can achieve the same benefits for some or all of the day today. Please tell me that you aren't going to be a pain in my neck and argue with me every time I offer to do this for you.” Stacy gave a little tug to the sheet.
“Wait, I don't have anything on but my briefs.”
“So what? It's nothing I haven't seen before.” A brief scan of the room showed a pile of Jo's clothes neatly folded on the rocking chair at the foot of the bed. She grabbed the shirt from the top of the pile. “Here, we can use this to rescue your modesty. Now, turn over, face down. This morning I want to work on your calves, too.”
If Stacy had not achieved such great results last night, Jo might have resisted more enthusiastically. She hadn't felt this good since before the shooting, so she shut up and did as she was directed.
She felt the sheet get pulled back followed immediately by the T-shirt being spread to cover her. A few seconds later, Stacy's caring fingers began their magic. She followed the same routine as she had the night before, doing a survey of the area with her sensitive fingers, locating the tender spots before working specifically to loosen the knots she found.
Stacy finished with Jo's calves and began working on the injured thigh. “This is much less knotted today. There's definitely some improvement.”
“Yes, I agree. Even before you started to massage it, my leg felt much better than it normally does in the mornings. It’s amazing how much better it feels now.”
Stacy sat on the edge of the bed. She expected a fuss when she began to massage Jo's shoulders. “Your shoulders are tight from using the cane.”
“Umm, that's nice. Where did you learn to do massage like this?”
“When I was in high school, a little boy in my neighborhood had CP. The family asked for volunteers to help massage him and exercise his joints. I volunteered, and the massage therapist trained a few of us. It was a great experience for me. I learned a lot about patience and fortitude in the face of adversity from that little boy. I've never met anyone before or since with such an upbeat attitude as he had when, in reality, he had very little to be so positive about.
“What happened to him?”
“He graduated from college and works with the CP foundation. I get a Christmas card from him every year with just three words on it, thank you and his name.”
Finished with the massage, Stacy started a light scratching that alternated between her fingertips and her nails, covering the entirety of Jo's back. Jo actually moaned in pleasure.
“That feels wonderful. I can't remember the last time anyone scratched my back. I probably shouldn't admit this, but it's been my experience in the past that whenever I'm naked with someone, they're generally more interested in my other side.”
Stacy pinched Jo's behind.
“Ouch! What was that for?”
“General principle.” Stacy stood up.” Now come on and get dressed. I'll get breakfast ready. Is cereal with fruit okay, or would you prefer a bagel?”
“Cereal and tea works for me. Do I have time to run through the shower?”
“Sure, no problem. I'll see you in the kitchen.”
“Stacy?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
“You are most welcome. Now, get a move on, I’m hungry.”
Less than twenty minutes later, Jo presented herself for breakfast. Although she still favored the bad leg, her stride was more secure and steady. “I can't thank you enough for the massage. What can I do for you in return? I’ll buy you lunch, give you my first born—anything your heart desires.”
“Well, although lunch is a tempting offer, you'll be bankrupt if you buy me lunch every time I rub your leg for you. Although the offer of your first-born is tempting, I think I'll hold you to the 'anything my heart desires' promise. Someday when you least expect it, I'll call in that marker.”
“Okay, that's a fair deal. I give you my word I'll do anything you ask, whenever you ask it.”
The two women readied their breakfast. Jo poured cereal into a bowl for each of them while Stacy sliced the bananas and added them. By the time she was finished, Jo had the milk in hand ready to pour.
Stacy touched Jo’s shoulder. “Please, wait ‘til I pour the tea. I hate my cereal to get soggy.”
Once everything was ready, the two women sat across from each other at the counter and began to eat. “So,” Jo asked, “no questions this morning?”
“Actually, I have a number of them. Ready?”
“Really?”
“Yes. I was trying to look this up on the Internet this morning. I'm kind of puzzled. I hope I won't be offensive in asking this.”
“Offensive, to me?”
“No, just generally offensive.” Stacy smiled, revealing her dimple.
Jo placed her chin on her palm and fixed her eyes on Stacy, bracing for the worst. “I'm ready. Shoot.”
“Uh, I'm curious. I mean, if I met any one of your friends individually, I don't think that I would think to myself, 'Yup, she's a lesbian.' I mean, they all wear makeup, dress beautifully, and seem very feminine. Even Nic, who I originally mistook for a man from the back at a distance, is really quite feminine in an androgynous sort of way. When I was growing up, in my mind, the word lesbian always conjured up a woman who dressed in men's clothing, flannel shirts, had a crew cut, and assumed the demeanor of a man. Then, when Ellen came out on television, I realized that stereotype wasn't true. I mean Ellen wasn't like that. She was a bit tomboyish, yet still feminine. Now she's doing makeup commercials and is even softer appearing. But your friends just seem like...” Stacy hesitated searching for a way to phrase her thought. “I don't know, like regular women I guess.”