Love was not an unknown quantity to her. She knew that she was capable of love — she loved Matt fiercely, and Richard deeply. And she'd loved Alan, much as she might have loved a brother if she'd had one. What she felt for Sarah sprang from the same place — it was strong and enduring. But her love for Sarah was entwined with desire and passion, a complex combination she had never experienced before.
Did she dare hope that some day — soon, please — Sarah would return these feelings? She tried not to read too much into Sarah's new year's kiss, or the easy way Sarah took her hand when they were out walking to hurry her up. It was obvious Sarah was comfortable with her, too comfortable to have nary a sexual thought. Leslie knew she had Sarah's respect and genuine affection. If only, she thought. If only she could have more.
Melody greeted Sarah with an I-told-you-so look. "Did I say this weekend would be clear and warm? It's spring!"
"Finally," Sarah said. "I thought it would never stop raining. It was getting—" She let out a squawk as something hit her in the back.
"You left your mitt at my house again," Leslie said from her office door.
Sarah picked up her mitt and then stuck her tongue out at Leslie. "Stop inviting me for pity dinners after softball, then."
"If I did that you'd starve." Leslie disappeared into her office.
Sarah turned to Melody. "She always has to have the last word, doesn't she?"
"You just figured that out?" Melody's look said Sarah was slow on the uptake. "She's the Queen of the Last Word."
Leslie's voice floated out to them. "Am not."
Sarah shared a laugh with Melody. "She can be so irritating."
"And you love it," Melody said, then she turned to answer her phone.
Sarah settled in at her desk, but found Melody's last words running through her head. Do I love it, she asked herself. Certainly she was very fond of Leslie — she was more than a work friend. They had joined a women's softball team together and indulged in their mutual love of bad science fiction movies — something they both shared with Matt. Matt had taught Sarah to inline skate, and she had promised to teach him how to shoot a bow. Leslie was helping her shop for a house down on the peninsula, but that was because she knew the lay of the land. There wasn't any more to it, she told herself firmly. Leslie's just a generous person.
She recalled her New Year's Resolutions. Not thinking about Melissa had been easier than expected. Not thinking about Romance — she had been doing very well with that one, until lately. She sternly reminded herself that she didn't believe in Romance anymore. Melody was a master of innuendo and that was all.
When she got home that night she found she couldn't shake Melody's phrase. "And you love it," she'd said. Love Leslie? She told herself to be honest and admit it — she did love Leslie, loved her like a sister.
She made herself a quick stir fry for dinner, then she went for a long walk. There hadn't been any fog for more than a week, and the daylight was getting a little longer. She strolled the length of the Castro merchant district, dodging what seemed like an endless parade of couples holding hands.
The Castro Theatre was showing Desert Hearts but Sarah was hardly going to watch it again — at least not in this millennium. She would miss the bustle of the area if she moved, but not so much that a quiet house in the Mountain View area didn't appeal. Her roots were sinking into MagicWorks, into Richard's kindness and the programmers' playfulness. Hanging out with Leslie had allowed her to get to know the San Jose area better. She'd like a place similar to Leslie's—a big kitchen, enough yard for a hot tub, and a hilltop view of something more than rows of houses.
She turned into an alley to cut over to Noe and startled two young women in ardent embrace. She went quickly by them, trying and failing to ignore the half-bared breasts and lips bruised with kisses. She was discomfited by a sudden mental image of Leslie in the hot tub.
Don't go there, she warned herself. She quickened her pace, but the steep uphill on Noe forced her to slow down, and she found herself admitting she couldn't outrun the silly idea Melody had planted in her head.
It was silly, she told herself later that night. She turned out the light and commanded herself to sleep, but instead she remembered watching Leslie dance with that woman at the Nestle party. She wondered what it would be like to dance with Leslie. But if she asked Leslie out dancing it would be like... like a date. They were buddies. Buddies don't date.
She wrapped her arms around her pillow and tried to sleep. She slipped into a light doze and rubbed her cheek against the pillow as if it were Leslie's. Her entire body felt warm and heavy and her mouth ached to open against Leslie's, to taste her and breathe her in.
When she awoke in the morning she knew she had been dreaming. And she knew the identity of the voluptuous dream woman with the wild black curls.
"Wiggle your fingers, your arm is too stiff." Sarah tipped Matt's head slightly more to the left. "Do you see the gold? Do you see the line between the tip of your arrow and the gold?"
"Yes," Matt said. He wiggled his fingers, then released the arrow. His bow rocked forward in his hand after the arrow left it, then he let out a whoop. "Bulls-eye! I finally got a bulls-eye!"
Sarah congratulated him, then said, "Archery isn't football, you don't get to do a special dance during competition."
"I know," he said. "But I was starting to think I'd never make it." He nocked his next arrow and Sarah stood back to watch his form.
She'd been giving him lessons for two months now, and he was improving rapidly. She glanced over her shoulder at Leslie, not surprised to find Leslie's gaze on her. She hadn't been surprised at that for some time, and she'd come to expect the caress she found in Leslie's eyes. She'd resisted believing in it at first, but she believed now.
"Finish shooting your quiver," she told Matt. "I won't give you any pointers and we'll see how you do. Just remember, there's no need to hurry. Sight the target. Focus on the line…"
"And let fly, I know," he said.
Sarah joined Leslie on the bench. "He's getting much better."
"It's nice to see him stick with something," Leslie said. "You're a great influence. I'm sure it's the first thing he'll tell his Dad when he gets off the plane tomorrow."
"Hey, it's been a pretty good day, all in all."
"That it has," Leslie said, watching Matt. "The guy from Disney was practically panting, wasn't he, though he wasn't at all the corporate fascist I had expected."
Sarah laughed, and Leslie turned to look at her inquiringly. "You and your preconceived notions."
Leslie rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.
"So do you think I should buy the house?"
"It's a great deal. I'm sure it'll be a good investment."
"A house is more than an investment," Sarah said. Her heart was racing. "It's the people in it. It's too big for me to fill up by myself." She couldn't look at Leslie. "I'd need help."
She put her arm on the back of the bench and, after a moment, Leslie mirrored her pose. Sarah's little finger brushed against Leslie's, sending an acute tingling down her arm.
Leslie's little finger brushed back, and Sarah let her gaze lock with Leslie's as their fingers hooked together.
Leslie said in a low voice, "Maybe you should hold off on the house for a while."
"Maybe I should. Things change. People change."
Leslie looked down at their linked fingers. "Hearts heal. And surprise you."
Tears sprang into Sarah's eyes. "This feels comfortable." She squeezed Leslie's little finger with her own.
"To me, too," Leslie said. She swallowed noisily, then repeated, "To me, too."
They shared a similar smile, and Sarah's heart settled into a calm, easy rhythm. How surprising, she thought. This love wasn't a tidal wave so much as the tide finally coming to the longed-for shore. It poured into every part of her body and soul, washing away any fears still lingering, and leaving no room for doubts to creep in. She studied the promise in Leslie's eyes
and anticipated the passion offered in her parted-lip smile.
Sarah looked her fill at the curves of Leslie's face. When Matt hollered again that he had hit the bulls-eye, Sarah knew he was not the only one.
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