“I didn’t so much catch you as help you down to the ground,” Gray said, and then added in a whisper, “I think maybe the catching will come later.”
Lizbeth was stunned for a moment. Gray knew Lizbeth was developing a crush on her. Was she that obvious? Was she sending signals she was unaware of? On the other hand, Gray flirting with her had sent Lizbeth’s heart into overdrive. It made Lizbeth feel things she had not felt in years. It appeared Gray was attracted to her as well. It had been a long time since Lizbeth felt wanted by someone, especially someone she wanted as well. Her brain kicked back into gear as she thought of what to say next. Lizbeth pushed the screen door open and stepped down on the first step. She paused and looked back up at Gray.
Lizbeth smiled flirtatiously, even though part of her brain was screaming, “Are you out of your mind?” She asked Gray, “What makes you think you can catch me?”
Gray grinned wider. “’Cause I caught you before.”
“Yes, and I ended up tied to a tree,” Lizbeth said.
Gray laughed. “Works for me.”
Lizbeth winked at Gray and said, in her best pirate imitation, “Aye matey, but you might be needin’ a bit more rope, this time.”
Gray’s laughter followed her across the street.
#
Lizbeth needed someone to talk to, but there was no one she would trust with this. Lizbeth and her daughter were extremely close. Although they shared everything about each of their lives, calling her daughter to tell her, “Your mother might be a big ol’ lesbian,” wasn’t something Lizbeth was willing to do. Mazie was the last person about whom Lizbeth wanted to think. With Mazie on her mind, Lizbeth began to reflect on the consequences of any kind of a sexual relationship with Gray.
Lizbeth knew lesbians. She wasn’t that sheltered. The ones she was friendly with were professional women, whose private lives were not the topic of dinner conversation. Molly Kincaid, a very successful Durham attorney and well-known lesbian, remained one of her closest friends, but they never really talked about Molly’s love life. Molly was a very private person. Lizbeth met several of Molly’s girlfriends, but knew next to nothing about her relationships. Lizbeth felt sorry now that she had never asked Molly if she was in love, or if her heart had been broken.
What would Molly say if Lizbeth called her? Would she be able to help, or would she laugh and say, “You’re on your own?” Molly was a lesbian and Lizbeth was afraid to talk to her. How was Lizbeth supposed to handle being a lesbian if she couldn’t talk to one? Then again, being attracted to one woman did not make her a lesbian, did it? Lizbeth hadn’t even kissed Gray, although she had felt the strong pull to do so. Maybe the kiss would immediately turn her off and she would never look at another woman in her life. Somehow, she doubted that Gray O’Neal would turn her off.
Lizbeth made up her mind, found her cell phone, and called Molly at home.
Molly answered after only one ring. “Lizbeth, good to hear from you.”
“Hi Molly, I hope I’m not disturbing you. Are you busy?”
“Not too busy for you. What’s up?”
“First of all Molly, I owe you an apology. In all the years we’ve been friends I never once asked you if you were happy, if you were in love, and I am very sorry.”
Molly was intrigued. “Wow, what’s going on? I can hear it in your voice. Something’s happened.”
Lizbeth’s throat began to tighten as she fought back tears that seemed to come out of nowhere. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but I really need to know, are you happy being a lesbian?”
Molly laughed, relieving some of Lizbeth’s stress.
“Good Lord, Lizbeth, have you been drinking?”
“No, I swear, I am stone cold sober. I wish I was drunk, though.”
“Okay, strange as that question was, I’ll bite. Yes, I am happy being a lesbian and yes I’ve been in love, just not at the moment. What’s going on with you? Aren’t you supposed to be on Ocracoke?”
Lizbeth walked to the kitchen for a bottle of water. Her throat was so dry she could barely speak. “Yes, I’m on Ocracoke finishing my thesis.”
Molly waited during the pause and when no more information was forthcoming, she asked, “Did you change your major to Women’s Studies? What’s with the lesbian question? No dodging, spill.”
“No, I didn’t change my major.” Lizbeth took another drink of water, trying to get up the courage to say the words aloud. “I met a woman.”
Molly stifled a laugh when she said, “Oh my God, to whom do I owe the toaster?”
Lizbeth laughed, too. “I saw Ellen. I know what you’re saying. No one is owed any toaster.”
Molly snickered. “Not yet.”
“Be serious, I need help here,” Lizbeth pleaded, although she thought Molly was probably right.
Lizbeth could hear that Molly was trying not to laugh when she said, “Okay, what can I help you with?”
“Molly, you can’t breathe a word of this.”
“I’m a lawyer. I keep people’s darkest secrets,” Molly responded.
“Well, here goes.” Lizbeth paused and took in a deep breath, before continuing, “Like I said, I met this woman and I… I don’t know…I can’t…”
Molly jumped in. “Let me make this easier for you. You met this woman and suddenly out of nowhere, you felt an unexplainable attraction to her. You can’t get her out of your mind. Every time she walks in a room, your heart beats faster and you can’t keep your eyes off her. She makes you go weak in the knees.”
“I fainted.”
“Lizbeth, you did not. Did you?”
Lizbeth laughed at Molly’s reaction, adding, “Yep, fainted right into her arms, in front of the entire Ocracoke United Methodist Church congregation.”
Molly couldn’t believe it. “You fainted in her arms. That’s hilarious. What made you faint?”
“She touched me. Well, that and I hadn’t eaten breakfast.”
Molly was whipping herself with laughter. It took a minute before she could say anything. “Lizbeth, I hate to tell you this darlin’, but you have a mad crush on a woman. I hope she’s a lesbian. Straight girls can be so bothersome.”
“Oh, she’s gay all right. I saw her kissing this woman the other night and…”
Molly stopped laughing. “Whoa, she’s with another woman? That might not be the best place to start your lesbian career. That can get ugly.”
“Gray - that’s her name - is somewhat of a Casanova from what I can tell. That was just some tourist she picked up in the bar, a married one, I might add.”
Molly didn’t like the sound of that. “Lizbeth, don’t get hooked up with one of those love ‘em and leave ‘em types. Unless you’re just experimenting, then go for it. I gotta say though, I don’t think you would have fainted if you were not already head over heels with this one.”
“Molly, she’s beautiful, and funny, and smart, and… God, yes, I have a crush the size of Texas on her, and it’s scaring the hell out of me.”
Molly giggled again. “It’s too late to turn back. She’s hooked you, now it’s just a matter of reeling you in.”
“But Molly, I…” Lizbeth stuttered.
Molly instinctively knew what Lizbeth wanted to hear. She said, in a calm serious tone, “Lizbeth, I have never regretted being a lesbian, not one day, not one minute. Yes, I have some social barriers to overcome, but when you’re really true to yourself, those negatives are minor in comparison to what you’ve gained. I’m not going to tell you it’s easy, but it’s worth it to love the one you’re meant to.”
Lizbeth sighed. “There are so many people who will be disappointed in me and...”
Molly didn’t want to hear that. She interrupted, “Who would you rather disappoint, them, or you? Besides, I think you’ll be surprised at the reactions you get. You can never predict how someone will take the news. I will tell you this, if you care more about what people think of you than being who you really are, then pack now, leave, and never
look back.”
Lizbeth knew Molly was right. “I put everyone’s needs before my own for so long, I don’t know if I can put me first. I need to rewire my brain.”
Molly said, encouraging Lizbeth, “Be selfish for a change. You never sowed your wild oats. Go out there and live life. You have been given a second chance. Take advantage of it. You have plenty of money. I’ve seen your divorce papers, remember. Have some fucking fun!”
Lizbeth felt her face and neck flush at what she said next. “Speaking of that, I’m not sure what… I mean I’ve never…”
Molly returned to her soft tone. “When it’s the right time, you’ll know. When you’re ready, it will be the most natural thing you’ve ever done. You don’t need anyone to tell you what to do. Fall in love, Lizbeth. You deserve it.”
“Molly, you are a wise woman. I’m so glad I called you.”
“That’s what friends are for,” Molly said, “And I may very soon be able to call you family. I’ll keep my fingers crossed.”
“You’re a good friend, Molly. Thank you. I guess I better let you go.”
“Call me and let me know how it’s going,” Molly said, then added quickly, “Lizbeth, if you go through with this, I promise you one thing…” She had to pause to keep from laughing. “You’ll be kicking yourself in the ass when you realize what you’ve been missing.”
Lizbeth could still hear Molly laughing when she hung up the phone.
#
Lizbeth didn’t go back to visit Fanny that afternoon. She lay on the couch, staring at the ceiling until almost six, and then she snuck across the street. She left a small basket of fresh vegetables from her stash, and a thank you note, explaining she was turning in early. She didn’t have the strength to handle seeing Gray again today.
She made sure to eat a little extra before going to bed and swore to herself she would not make the low sugar mistake again. Lizbeth climbed the stairs, weary and panged, before the sun was down. She hadn’t felt this run down in years and yet she was alive with anticipation. She closed her eyes and immediately the image of Gray at the church appeared. Gray hovered over her, holding Lizbeth in her strong arms, wearing that raffish grin, her crystal blue eyes locked on Lizbeth’s. This time Lizbeth didn’t try to make it go away.
Chapter Four
The lullaby of the peepers and cicadas, through the open bedroom windows, had helped a ragged Lizbeth get a greatly needed restorative sleep. She woke early, fixed her breakfast, and was having coffee on the front porch, reading emails on her laptop, when Gray’s voice broke the morning silence.
“You’re up early.”
Lizbeth couldn’t contain the smile that was enveloping her face. Gray was wearing Ray Bans, board shorts, and a tank top over her sport bathing suit top, which Lizbeth was coming to recognize as Gray’s signature look. She carried the little cooler in one hand. She was grinning back at Lizbeth like the Cheshire cat.
Lizbeth found herself flirting shamelessly. “Yes, I feel so much better this morning. I slept like a baby. No mopeds woke me or anything.”
Gray cocked her head and raised an eyebrow in question. “Oh, have the mopeds been keeping you awake at night?”
“You could say that,” Lizbeth answered coyly. “Would you like some coffee?”
Gray looked at her watch. “I wish I could stay, but I have a full schedule today. Got to make money while they’re here. With the storm coming, it looks like it’s going to be a short week anyway. As it is, with the swell, I can only take a half a load. Might be a short day, anyway, if it gets worse.”
“How bad does it have to get for you to cancel?” Lizbeth asked.
Gray chuckled. “When the tourons start throwing up on my boat, I pretty much call it quits.”
“I guess you know what you’re doing. Be careful. I don’t think I’ve had the full Gray experience and I’d hate to miss out now.”
Lizbeth couldn’t believe how blatantly she was hitting on this woman, but it was exhilarating. She was having fun, just as Molly said. Lizbeth had made up her mind to throw caution to the wind, to hell with what people might think. She was going to take this ride, come hell or high water. From the sounds of things the high water might be coming.
Gray seemed to enjoy Lizbeth’s newfound confidence. She gamely played along. “Well, I’d hate to disappoint you, so I’ll be extra careful.”
Lizbeth winked. “You do that.”
Gray seemed torn. She looked at her watch again. “I really have to go.” She started to turn toward the dock and then stopped. “Hey, you want to go for a walk after supper?”
Lizbeth’s heart leapt with joy. She tried not to give away her excitement when she answered, “Yes, I think I’d like that very much.”
Gray smiled broadly. “Okay, around seven thirty.” She winked, adding, “I’ll pick you up.”
Lizbeth couldn’t help how she felt and she knew she was letting the cat out of the bag, but she was unable to resist Gray’s charms. “I’ll be here,” she said.
Gray’s raffish smile returned and just before she walked away, she shivered and said, “Hum, kinda chilly this morning.” She dropped her gaze and peered over the top of her glasses at the front of Lizbeth’s tee shirt. “See you later,” she said and left with her laughter trailing behind her.
Lizbeth looked down at her shirt. She had thrown on an old, worn out, white tee shirt, not thinking about what it looked like. She was horrified. Her nipples were at full attention, poking at the thin fabric. She looked down the street after Gray. That’s when Lizbeth realized Gray was walking backwards, watching her. Gray let out a cackle, smiled and waved, then turned back toward the docks and was gone.
#
For the remainder of the morning, Lizbeth spread her research out in her little make-do office upstairs. She immersed herself in the work and emerged at lunchtime surer than ever that coming here was going to make writing the paper so much easier. Surrounded by her subject matter and real live experts, she had an entire resource library out her front door.
Throughout the morning, thoughts of Gray filtered in and out between diphthongs and idioms. Lizbeth considered what Molly had said to her. If Gray was a player, then Lizbeth was about to be played. At this point, it didn’t matter. Gray was slowly reeling Lizbeth in and she had stopped putting up a fight. She might end up being another trophy for Gray’s wall, but she didn’t care.
After lunch, she put away the papers, organized now in appropriate stacks. All of her research was on her laptop, but she liked to hold the sheets of paper, physically placing them in the order she needed. It helped her see the big picture. Tomorrow she would work some more, but for the rest of the afternoon she was a free woman.
Lizbeth listened to the forecast on the little radio in the kitchen. Earl was becoming more of a threat. Beaches south of Ocracoke were closing and there was talk of evacuation. Lizbeth saw no need to worry, but she did want to be prepared. She checked around the cottage for supplies. She decided to take a walk to the Community Store to pick up some more candles, batteries, and fuel for the hurricane lamps, before the tourists panicked and bought it all. She also needed a few more food items.
Lizbeth changed out of the thin white tee shirt to a more appropriate one for going out of the house. Still, she left her bra out of her outfit because her shoulders were still a bit red and sore from the sunburn. She looked over at Gray’s cottage to see if Fanny was on the porch. She would’ve offered to pick up something for her at the store, but Fanny was not in her customary rocker. Lizbeth carried her canvas bags happily down Howard Street, following the same path Gray had taken that morning.
It did cross her mind that she might see Gray, because the Community Store was down at the docks. A Community Store had stood on the same site for many years, back into the 1800’s. The current building had been there since the 1950’s, offering everything a person on the island could need from fresh produce to fuel for your boat. It wasn’t Wal-Mart, but it had enough of what folks needed to s
tay in business.
Lizbeth didn’t see Gray around the docks. She did see a sign on one of the slips that said, “Austin’s Portsmouth Island Tours.” Down a few slips, on the other side of Kitty Hawk Kites, there was another sign, this one for O’Neal’s Portsmouth Island Tours. Lizbeth was sure there was plenty of business to go around. Ocracoke was a very popular vacation spot, although there didn’t seem to be as many people today as on Saturday. Of course, schools were starting back up, accounting for most of the absence of tourists, and the visitors today appeared past child rearing years.
Lizbeth was glad she came when she did. Almost all the batteries were sold out, but she did manage to get one set of fresh ones for the radio and flashlight. Grabbing a few essentials, two bottles of wine, toilet paper, some fresh peaches, and canned non-perishables, she paid for her purchases and walked back out into the bright sunshine. To look at it, one would never know there was a hurricane brewing in the Atlantic. The sky was crystal blue, much like the color of Gray’s eyes. There she was again, invading Lizbeth’s thoughts.
Lizbeth walked back behind the Kitty Hawk Kite building, peeking at the dock on the other side, where she had seen Gray’s sign. Still no boat tied to the dock. She had not realized how much she wanted to see Gray, until she didn’t, and then she was flooded with disappointment. “Oh girl, you got it bad,” she said under her breath.
On the way back home, she bought a couple of handmade candles from a woman selling them in her front yard. They were the kind Lizbeth made as a child. Her father would take them out to the beach where he would melt big hunks of wax, collected from the bottoms of burnt candles, in an old pot hung over a camp fire. The kids would dig holes and pack the damp sandy walls tight and the bottoms flat. Tying a wick to a piece of driftwood, they would lay the stick over the hole, suspending the wick in the space. Then her father would pour the hot wax in the holes. They would wait until the wax set, then dig up the sand covered candle. It was a fond memory.
Waking Up Gray Page 5