Summer's End

by Bliss, Harper

  She bent her elbows a little more, changing the angle of the toy inside Marianne slightly and was met by another guttural groan. Her nipples hovered close enough to Marianne’s torso to graze her skin when she rocked her pelvis, and she could feel Marianne’s ragged breath blow across her cheeks. Emily couldn’t be closer to her, yet that was what she craved.

  She wanted to show Marianne that this was who she really was, the natural progression of the person she’d discovered inside herself in Samui. She wanted to let her know how much she cared about her, how much she owed her—and loved her. How it could be between them if she stayed.

  Emily shook that last thought off her, realising it was unfair. She had time to manage her expectations later. Because the way Marianne looked at her, her eyes all but glazing over, tears running from them in steady streams, there was no way she didn’t know.

  And when she let go, when Marianne’s body shivered beneath her, one muscle spasm quickly following the next, it shook Emily to her core. It touched her soul. She took the trip with Marianne, that warm, moist, tingling voyage through flesh and bone that, at the same time, had such an effect on her mind. It was the single most powerful experience of Emily’s life.

  She let Marianne call the shots, let her gaze up at her with moist eyes and sagging lips before pulling her close, their bodies covered in a layer of sweat.

  “You’ve changed me,” Marianne said into Emily’s ear. “I want to live again.”

  Emily pressed her lips into Marianne’s tousled hair before pulling out gently. It was an odd sensation, having just fucked another woman like that—the closeness and togetherness it had brought about. As transformative as it had been a few seconds ago, Emily couldn’t get the contraption off her quick enough now so she could press her own body against Marianne. She rapidly loosened the straps, slipped out of the harness and tossed it aside.

  “I want to live with you,” she said, after she’d freed herself and rubbed her entire body against Marianne’s side. And perhaps it was too soon, maybe even ludicrous, but in that moment, it couldn’t have felt more right.

  When Marianne didn’t instantly reply, Emily pushed herself up on her elbows and scanned Marianne’s face. Her eyes were closed, her features relaxed, her limbs sunk into the duvet. It was as at peace as Emily had seen her. She still couldn’t believe Marianne was here, in her bed—she almost wanted to reach for the toy again, as if needing to examine evidence.

  She planted a soft kiss on Marianne’s cheekbone. Marianne opened her eyes in response. A single tear slid along her temple, down onto the pillow.

  “Come here,” she said, and cradled her arm around Emily’s neck, pulling her close.

  Emily rested her head on Marianne’s chest, just above the swell of her breast. She felt more like home than ever in her flat.

  “I guess I’d better start by informing my family of my new lifestyle though,” Emily backtracked a little because she fully realised that, just because the moment felt right for her, it wouldn’t necessarily be the same for Marianne. “Now that you’re here, I feel as if I can really do that, whereas before it was more of an abstract notion.”

  “Do it when you’re ready. You can’t force these things.” Marianne pulled her close, her fingers travelling across Emily’s back. “And even posh Holland Park families have feelings. I’ve been there, so I know.”

  “How did your parents react?” All the questions we have yet to ask each other.

  “Well,” Marianne chuckled. “Considering the fact that I always categorically refused to wear a dress or a skirt whenever I was home from school—gosh, these ghastly uniforms they made us wear—and, as a teenager, my room was decorated with pictures of old female movie stars like Ingrid Bergman and Lauren Bacall, it didn’t come as that much of a surprise, I suppose.” She sighed, her chest heaving up and down. “There were the usual questions. Are you sure? Have you given boys a fair chance? And concerns, of course. Will she ever be happy? How will the world treat her? Because, in the end, no matter where you’re from, most parents just want their children to be happy. And once they get past the fact that their child’s happiness will not exactly align with their expectations, they find a way to accept it.” Marianne’s hand had trailed all the way back up to Emily’s hair, twirling strands of it around her fingers. “And I was happy. For a long time, I was so happy. Ingrid didn’t come from the same background as me, but as soon as my father set eyes on her, he saw what I saw.” Marianne’s voice broke a little, but she recovered. “If your family is half decent, and I assume they are, having brought up someone as loving and kind as yourself, they’ll come round.”

  “Loving and kind, huh?” Emily’s lips found the delicate spot beneath Marianne’s ear. “How about irresistibly sexy and naturally adept at wielding a strap-on?”

  Marianne giggled and turned on her side, facing Emily. “There’s that, but I wouldn’t stress these particular details when coming out.”

  “Will you come with me?” Emily’s heart pounded in her chest. “When I tell them.”

  Marianne shook her head. “I can’t do that, baby.” Emily’s stomach tightened. “Put yourself in their shoes for a second. You break off your engagement, escape to Thailand and come back with a woman more than fifteen years your senior. Sometimes, it’s better to minimise the shock.”

  “It just… I don’t know. Somehow, I suspect they’ll have an easier time accepting it if you’re there. If they can see for themselves that lesbians are not social outcasts and—”

  “Ahum,” Marianne interrupted her.

  “You know what I mean.”

  “This is something you’ll have to do on your own, babe.”

  MARIANNE

  Marianne rang the bell to her parents’ house. She hadn’t called beforehand and they didn’t know she was in town. She’d come to London for Emily and no one else, but she could hardly ignore them after advising Emily on how to handle her own family: with respect, no matter what. Something Marianne had failed to do miserably over the past five years.

  As the door slowly creaked open, Marianne wondered how many more times on this trip she’d have to say, “Surprise.”

  Nearing seventy, her dad still stood regal. His hair had all but gone snow white and it curled to the side of his scalp in long, unkempt wisps, making him look every bit the distracted professor he was.

  “Darling, is that you?” He blinked his eyelids open and shut a few times. “Well, do come in.” Never one to indulge in very tactile relationships with his children, he curled an arm around Marianne’s shoulder and gave her a firm squeeze. The gesture moved her much more than she had anticipated.

  “Your mother is out, playing bridge at Ginny’s like every Wednesday afternoon, but I’ll put the kettle on.” He looked a bit out of sorts. No wonder.

  “I’ll do it, dad. You sit down.” Marianne nodded at her father and headed towards the kitchen. No matter how long she went away, some things never changed. The cupboards had been redone and the fixtures refitted, but it was still the kitchen of her childhood, with the same layout and the same gold-plated frames on the wall.

  Waiting for the water to boil gave Marianne a few minutes to adjust to her surroundings. She had so many memories in this house, good ones and bad ones. The first time she’d brought Ingrid over for supper. The way she had to drag Ingrid away from never-ending discussions with her father about some sociological phenomenon that, quite frankly, Marianne couldn’t even feign interest in. The day she had to tell them what had happened. The time she’d left, soon after, rushing in and quickly out again, for good—she believed.

  “How are you, dad?” Marianne handed him a steaming mug of tea.

  “Still trying to wrap my head around the fact that you’re standing in front of me.” A smile tugged at his lips. “Your mother will be in a right state when—”

  “I’m coming back, dad.” Marianne quickly swallowed away the tears bunching in her throat. “I’m ready.”

  “You are?” He h
id his face behind the mug, but Marianne spotted the tiny drop of moisture forming in the corner of his right eye.

  “I’m selling the house in Samui and I…” Marianne hesitated. “I’m coming home.”

  London had ceased to feel like home the day Ingrid had died. It had instantly turned into a cold, grey, unforgiving place, no matter how many friends and relatives remained, worried and cared about her.

  “That’s truly wonderful news, darling.” Her father could regale an auditorium full of students for an hour on end without failing to grasp their unflinching attention, but when it came to matters closer to the heart, he never had found a way of expressing how he felt with words.

  “I met someone and I—I think she needs me here.” Marianne had never actively looked for a reason to return, had avoided that altogether really, but now, after seeing the dazzling glint in Emily’s eyes when they stood face to face again, it seemed like the most logical course of action ever.

  “Your mother will be thrilled. You—you must invite her to supper soon. We’d love to meet… her.” Marianne couldn’t remember ever having witnessed her father’s cheeks redden with pure emotion.

  “I will, dad, soon.”

  “Your mother’s bringing back a roast chicken from Sainsbury’s. You will stay for dinner, won’t you?”

  Marianne looked at the man in front of her, kindness flooding her veins. She watched how he battled with bottled-up emotions and she knew she hadn’t inherited that particular trait from a stranger. She knew her father understood. “Of course.”

  She’d made a deal with Emily earlier that day. They’d both go home and share some important news. Emily believed that Marianne’s news was simply that she’d come to town unexpectedly. She had no idea that Marianne had made a decision that would change both of their lives.

  EMILY

  “You’re a… a lesbian?” Emily’s mother sat with her hands covering her mouth, exactly the way Emily had imagined it. “But… you were with Jasper for five years. I don’t understand. How can that be possible?”

  Her father put a hand on his wife’s knee. They sat in front of her in the sofa. Emily had wisely waited to impart the news until after dinner, lest they choke on their food. She also needed the wine that came with it to loosen her tongue and fortify her courage.

  “I mean, how do you know? Did you cheat on him with… with a woman?” Emily’s mother blurted out the words. How Emily longed for Marianne’s presence. Her mother would never ramble like that in front of a stranger.

  “That’s enough, Penny.” Her father patted her mother’s leg again, a bit more forcefully this time as to not miss his point. “Let her talk.” He rested his eyes on Emily’s, an unexpected understanding brimming in the light blue of them.

  “I’ve always known on some level, I guess. I just never… had the chance to explore. I met someone… a woman, in Thailand. And—”

  “Oh, dear god…” A gasp escaped her mother’s mouth.

  Emily continued undeterred, spurred on by her father’s firm glance of reassurance. “Meeting her confirmed what I’ve known deep down all along. I’m sor—” Emily stopped before apologising. It was simply not something for which she felt she needed to say sorry—a very much overused word in her family.

  “This woman lives in Thailand?” her father inquired with his soft baritone that helped him command a court room.

  “Yes, but she’s here now. She’s visiting, I mean, she’s from here but she left…” It was Emily’s turn to ramble now. “It’s a long story.”

  “Did she… did this woman make you gay?” Her mother was about to reach the suppressed sobbing stage. Emily could tell. She wouldn’t actually shed a tear, but every other inflection would be there.

  “No, mum. No, of course not. I was—”

  “I simply don’t understand. You and Jasper were so happy, so gorgeous together. Then you decide to leave him, for reasons no one understood. You go on some journey of self-discovery in Asia and return a lesbian? Something must have happened.”

  “Look, I understand that you will need some time to let this sink in and that this comes from left field a bit. But nothing happened to me or was done to me. I was always like this, I just didn’t realise.”

  “Robert, do you understand this?” Her mother turned to her father as if he held all the answers instead of Emily.

  “I can hardly say I was expecting it.” At least, her father addressed her directly. “You have been different since you’ve come back. More self-assured and goal-oriented. I just figured that trip had done you the world of good.”

  “Oh, it certainly has.” Emily’s mind drifted to the day they’d celebrated Marianne’s birthday on the beach. It was very difficult to hide the wide grin that wanted to burst all over her face. It was even harder to think back to those days of joy—those days of blissful affirmation of what she already knew—while sitting in front of her parents now, her mother on the brink of tears and her father trying to rationalise it so he could understand. It would be so much easier if they could only see that it was simply a matter of love. Then again, that never mattered a great deal in the Kane family.

  Her father cleared his throat. “We respect your choices, Emily. We always will.”

  Her mother blew her nose discreetly.

  “But we need some time to absorb this… news.”

  Emily took a deep breath. Her father was usually more eloquent, but she understood that this was a shock to their system. She’d come to dinner only to dash their well-practiced, long-rehearsed dreams and expectations. It was only fair to give them some time to adjust. She could hardly expect her non-suspecting parents to invite her lesbian lover to a meal so quickly. Emily was sure though, that if they were only to meet Marianne, it would make things so much easier for them.

  “I get it.” She looked them both over. Her mother was doing a fairly good job of hiding the perplexed look on her face with her hand, while her father sported his well-worn nothing-can-stop-me lawyer mask. “I just wanted you to be the first to know.”

  “We appreciate that, darling.” Her father gave her mother’s knee another squeeze, as if wanting to yank her out of her cocoon of sudden misery. “Don’t we, Penny?”

  Emily witnessed her mother pull herself together. She straightened her back, tucked the handkerchief away in the sleeve of her checkered blazer, inhaled sharply, and rose to her feet.

  Emily’s stomach knotted at the expectation—the only possible one—that her mother was about to storm out of the room.

  “Come here,” she said, instead, and opened her arms wide. “Come,” she insisted.

  Emily pushed herself out of the settee and took a step in the direction of her mother, whose outstretched arms left her nonplussed.

  Emily’s mother bridged the remaining gap between them and slung her arms around Emily’s shoulder. “You’re my only daughter. I love you and, frankly, I just want you to be happy.”

  Tears stung behind Emily’s eyes.

  “After Jasper, I feared for your happiness so much, sweetheart.” She hugged Emily closer. “If this is how it is, then this is how it is.”

  Emily did something she hadn’t done since she was ten years old. She broke out in sobs on her mother’s shoulder.

  MARIANNE

  “She hugged you?” Marianne was confused.

  “She hugged me for minutes on end.”

  “That’s a good thing, right?” Marianne had found Emily in quite a state when she’d arrived at her flat.

  “Rather disconcerting, if you ask me.” Emily stared at her from under her lashes, a small grin playing on her face. “She didn’t hug me after I broke up with Jasper. She didn’t hug me when I went to say goodbye before my trip.”

  “She was waiting for the right moment, perhaps.” Marianne scooted a little closer. “Saving it for when it mattered most.”

  “I couldn’t have told them if I hadn’t known I’d be seeing you tonight, you know.”

  “That’s what you k
eep telling yourself.”

  “It’s true.” Emily scrambled for Marianne’s hand. “You give me a strength I don’t have when you’re not around.”

  Marianne brought both their hands to her mouth and pressed a kiss on Emily’s palm. “I believe it’s called sexual satisfaction, babe.”

  Emily shook her head. “No. It’s much more than that.”

  Marianne adored how Emily could be so intuitively adamant about certain things. She flipped her hand around and found a knuckle with her lips, then another.

  “How did it go with your folks?”

  Marianne peered at Emily and let a smile take over her face. “Oh, they were very happy with my news.”

  “What news? That you’re in town for another week? Or that you didn’t go to see them for days after your arrival because you were hiding out with a girl in her early twenties?”

  “Touché.” Marianne arched up her eyebrows. “But no, I was referring to another spot of news.”

  “What?” Emily’s fingers squeezed around hers.

  She knew it was evil to play with Emily’s patience after the night she’d had. “I told them I am moving back to London.”

  “You… What?”

  Marianne’s heart leapt in her chest as she scanned Emily’s face while her words registered. She sat stock still for an instant, her lips forming a big O.

  “I can’t, in good faith, leave you here to prance around by yourself now, can I?” Marianne cupped Emily’s cheeks with her palms. “Your mother would end up hugging you every day. You’d come out to the world. Chicks would be falling for you in droves.”

  “Chicks? Come out? What on earth…” Emily stammered. A tear ran down her cheek and Marianne caught it with her thumb. “You’re coming back?”

  Marianne nodded, overcome with emotion as well. “For you. Yes.”