Her Hometown Girl

by Lorelie Brown

  “I’ve missed you too, Mom.”

  Mom’s hug is a safe one even if it’s awkward over the center console and stick shift. I have no doubts, no bit of freezing. It’s only the burning tears that I have to hold back with a few blinks and a sniffle.

  Then I’m out of the car, and Dad is the first one to grab me. He smells like motor oil and his baseball cap is shoved back on his head enough that I can see his hair has receded another few inches. “Muffin!”

  “Daddy.” I burrow my face against his chest. He’s nearly a foot taller than me.

  “Your mom made your favorite. Tater tot casserole.” He pats my back. “You’re lucky. She doesn’t make it for me anymore. Says my blood pressure can’t take it.”

  This is my dad. The man who can squeeze me so hard that my ribs hurt a little, but who can only talk about the food that Mom’s prepared. I guess he’s who I get my difficulties expressing myself from. But not this time. “I’m glad to be home, Daddy.”

  “Yeah. I know, muffin. I know.”

  And then he lets me go. I’m pulled into a vortex of family and friends. It’s the strangest feeling to know every one of their names. I hadn’t realized how isolated California can be. I’ve been in crowded yoga classes and not even known the instructor’s name. But this is one big line of people who wiped my butt and aren’t afraid to remind me, or who copied off my test in World History or who I played with in creeks and climbed trees.

  At one point I turn around and find Beth, who’s grinning at me like a mad hatter. Her hair is cropped super short, and she’s wearing a Cabela’s T-shirt under an open flannel. She smacks me on the back hard enough that I stumble. “Holy shit, woman! You have no idea how good it is to not be the token lesbian anymore.”

  “I’m only here for a week,” I say and then laugh.

  “I’ll take what I can get.” She gives her sign a wiggle. “You gotta come by the shop.”

  “Shop?”

  “I bought old man Nowacki’s garage. I’m the only game in town if your radiator goes out.”

  “I’ll keep it in mind.” I grin at her. “We should get coffee.”

  Her laugh is grand and wide open. “I’m in. We’ll go to your grandma’s place.”

  “We can get that booth in the back corner and pretend no one knows what we’re talking about.”

  She leans in and drops her voice as if we’re going to share a secret. “Rebecca’s ass is still as hot as it’s always been. Just sayin’.”

  “I heard that!” exclaims a deep voice. “And I completely agree.”

  My brother is even taller than our dad. I have to crane my neck to look at him. “Justin! Get down here and hug me.”

  And the smart-ass goes to his knees there in the driveway. He throws his arms wide. “There. Is that better?”

  “You’re still my younger brother, and I still reserve the right to beat you up.” Except it pretty much brings his head to my shoulder level, so I hug him. This thing is getting easier each time. “I’ll have to jump you when you’re not expecting it.”

  Mom claps and then waves her hands over her head. “Let’s take this party inside. Food’s in the kitchen, drinks are in the coolers on the back porch. Off we go!”

  Justin hops back up to his feet. He and Beth throw their arms around my shoulders and herd me toward the house. Dad grabs my suitcase, but Frank, his best friend of thirty years and a guy who’s practically an uncle to me, grabs my tote bag. It’s pretty cute to see burly, bearded Frank with a bright-pink shopping tote hooked over one shoulder, but then I let Justin and Beth lead me away into my childhood home.

  This feels like more than a visit. The warmth in my chest and my heart says I’m where I’m supposed to be. These are the people who know me and who would have kept me safe from the beginning. Even the crisp air carries a scent of greenery and the smallest hint of wood smoke. Orange leaves crackle underfoot.

  I don’t regret leaving, but I don’t know if I want to go away again.

  Except Idaho doesn’t have Cai.

  Cai

  I insisted on renting a car and driving up from Idaho Falls on my own. The drive was pretty awesome. I like my personal time, and I’d gotten almost three hours in the car, cranking the stereo, on a drive that’s very different than three hours in the car in Southern California. The mountains spoke for themselves. Vibrant colors, twisting roads, and the freedom to smash down the gas pedal as much as I felt like.

  If I’m honest, I’m damn lucky I didn’t catch myself a speeding ticket, but all’s well that ends well.

  I also insisted on getting a room at one of three motels in town, but as I pull up to the Seeker Inn, I kind of second-guess that choice. The two-story motel and one-story office are both painted a pinkish orange that might be something like salmon pink. Maybe. If the sun were setting and I squinted a lot.

  The parking lot is surprisingly full. I find a spot between a mud-splattered F-150 and a Chevy, and the rental RAV4 that felt fun and roomy when I picked it up at the airport is suddenly dwarfed. I haul my hiking backpack out of the rear and swing it over a shoulder.

  I stand inside the door and take the time for a really good look around. The floor is large gray tiles, not the shag orange that the walls would make me expect. Once it all sinks in, I realize the furniture is pretty industry-standard motel stuff. Nubby polyester upholstered chairs flank black metal tables. Through an archway to the right is a breakfast area with small bistro tables made of wrought iron. There’s a checkin desk topped with gray marble that coordinates with the floor tiling, and behind the desk is a young guy with stick-straight, dirty-blonde hair.

  Everything is surprisingly up-to-date. Huh. Even the desk clerk is alert and totally on top of his job. He has me checked in less than ten minutes after I walk through the door. I barely have time to text Tansy that I’ve arrived. I send her my room number once I get that too.

  But despite hitting Go on the text literally as I step into the room, I’ve barely unpacked my Tshirts before I hear a knock. I open the door half expecting the desk clerk or a random stranger, but it’s definitely Tansy.

  I would know that cloud of curls anywhere. She’s got on a pair of faded-out jeans that I don’t remember seeing in California. They hang low on her hips, and the Henley she’s wearing emphasizes the curves of her body. Damn, she looks good.

  “Were you waiting around the corner or something?”

  “Nope. I was home. It’s a small town. Doesn’t take long to get across. Not like San Sebastian. I haven’t sat in traffic for days!” She brushes past me and throws herself down on the king-sized bed. “I take it back. I’m glad you got a motel room. This bed is huge.”

  “Hey.” I snap it as crisply as I can manage. “You haven’t greeted me properly.”

  “What?” She sits back up, her eyes wide. The bedspread is dark blue. Her pale skin glows. She looks healthier here. Or maybe it’s happier? When I first met Tansy, she had the edge of panic to every word that came out of her mouth. Even though I’m acting firm, that feeling is gone.

  “Come kiss me.”

  A smile blooms across her mouth. She slides off the bed and saunters toward me. The usual sweetness clings to her, but it’s mixed with a hint of wood smoke. “That I can do,” she purrs.

  She leans up on her toes and mates her mouth to mine. Her lips taste like candied apples. We aren’t touching anywhere but at our mouths, and it’s beautiful and serene.

  We’ve been seeing each other two and three times a week in California, and it has been only three days ahead of me that Tansy arrived in Idaho. How could I have grown to miss her in that time? It seems like an impossibility, something that’s bigger than me and as mysterious as a phantom at the same time. Like a ghost, she’s going to slip through my fingers.

  That magic quality she has, the ability to keep going despite the fear that I can read on her … She’s strong in a way I never thought to be. It was the months between Xue disappearing and finding her body that were the worst.
The not knowing sank into my bones. The terror was never ending—sometimes I think in a literal way that’s still holding on to me.

  Tansy has been through hell and come out as startlingly earnest as a grown human can be.

  I’ve never tried to hold on to anyone before. I don’t know what to do this time.

  She drops down. I smile at her and tap the end of her perky button nose. “Good girl.”

  Her smile turns into a laugh. “Should I say ‘Woof woof’?”

  I even feel goofy about her straight, white teeth. Only straight thing I like on her. This is ridiculous. I catch her around the waist. Our curves align. Where her hips go in, mine go out. Her breasts are soft. “I could give puppy play a shot if you really wanted. I don’t know that it’d come naturally.”

  She giggles some more and covers her face with her hands. Splotches of bright red tint the tops of her cheeks and her ears anyway. “No! No, no, I didn’t even know that was a thing. Is that a thing? Really?”

  “Some people like it.” I fold and bury my face in her neck as I make a growling noise. “See? You liked that there.”

  “It tickled,” she exclaims with another round of laughter. “Physiological reactions can’t be controlled.”

  Her arms hook around my neck, and she leans back so that a lot of her body weight dangles. She’s trusting me to hold her up.

  I won’t let her fall.

  Even if it scares the shit out of me.

  We’re supposed to go over and meet her family for dinner, but one more kiss won’t kill us, so I take it. Except she melts into my arms like some sort of end-of-the-video-game prize. I claim her mouth and my hand is at her breast before I realize what’s going on. I end the kiss and push her back. “Nuh-uh. I am not going to sleep with you right before meeting your dad.”

  She scoots into my arms again and curls her hands around the bottom hem of my T-shirt. She rubs her knuckles over my bare skin. “Are you sure? Are you really sure?”

  “Are you trying to get me in trouble?”

  “Would you spank me if I said yes?” She’s in full minx mode, with that teasing smile on her lips. She wiggles a little bit. “It’s not like I had high school boyfriends. The whole rebellion thing passed me by. I think Jody was about as close as I got to it, and she was like a grenade who pulled her own pin. I never really knew when she was going to go off.”

  “That sounds seriously shitty.” The time I met Jody, she was a real peach, and I’ve guessed she must have been a bitch, but I think this is more than Tansy has ever said about her before. When I take Tansy’s hands, they’re ice-cold.

  She shrugs as if it doesn’t matter anymore. I want that to be true, but I wonder how much she’s been hurt. Where her wounds end. I’m not a surgeon, but I’m someone who cares about her. Maybe I can help sew her up.

  “So now is fun. I kind of want to parade you all around town. Everyone’s going to love you.”

  “I don’t know about that,” I say as I shake my head. “I’m not exactly small-town material. All the tats.”

  “Eh.” She pets the ink on my arm. “You’re not as edgy as you think you are.”

  “You take that back, or I’ll start growling again.”

  “See?” She hooks a hand around the back of my head and pulls my mouth down to her. “All bark, no bite.”

  “I’ll order you to your knees again.”

  “Like that’s a hardship.” She darts her tongue out and licks my bottom lip, then kisses the moisture away. “I ain’t afraid of you, lady.”

  I hug her. I hold her body to mine as tight as I can manage, and she squeezes me back. We’re a port in an invisible storm. In my head it’s calm. I want her. I want to keep her, this mix of vulnerable and innocent that she has mastered. The pile of her hair covers my face, and I breathe her in.

  I’m going to have a life full of Tansy Gavin, and my world is going to be better for it.

  “Kneel,” I order her.

  She sinks gracefully and immediately. Her gaze stays linked to mine. I’ll be damned if I’m gonna be the first one to look away.

  Her touch skims down my shoulders, over the backs of my wrists, and finds purchase at the front of my jeans. She looks up at me, thumb rubbing the metal button. “May I?”

  “May you what?”

  Her eyes are luminous against the pale arch of her cheek. The sweep of her lashes has depth it hadn’t before. I think she got those lash things she was talking about. The effect is subtle, but it makes her even more beautiful. I have a wood nymph kneeling before me. “May I take your pants down? Please, miss?”

  I have to hold back a little smile, because miss doesn’t seem like a name that fits me in the least. I’m a ballbuster, a broad. Miss is for women who attend church or are younger than twenty. That hasn’t been me for a long time. “You may unbutton me.”

  She opens the snap and lowers the zipper—and I snag her hand. “Uh-uh. Naughty little one. I only said you could unbutton, not unzip.”

  A gasp flies from her parted lips. “You tricked me!”

  “Did I? Or did you get greedy and hear what you wanted to hear?”

  She drops her gaze, and she’s hiding her own teasing smile. There are stars in her eyes. “I got greedy. I like having all of you, mistress.”

  I laugh, and it’s okay because she giggles. “No, I don’t think that one works either.”

  “I need something to call you, don’t I?” She speaks so innocently, as if I’m not going to notice the way she’s inveigling her hands between the back waistband of my jeans and my panties. She grips my ass and squeezes. Sneaky gropes. I’ll let it pass because I like the hungry way she eyes me up. “Your name feels too informal right now. And I like the way you call me ‘little one.’”

  “Is that what I say? It’s fitting.” I wrap a lock of her hair around a finger.

  She widens her knees and comes closer to me so that they’re on either side of my toes. Her cheek lies against my stomach. “It makes me feel good when you use it. Small in a good way.”

  “Have you been small in a bad way before?” I ask before I think it through.

  Her grip on my ass tightens, and she presses her cheek against me. For a moment I think that’s going to be all the answer I get. The air in the meager room is still. I can hear my own pulse in my ears. The tiny shuffle of leather against carpet when she shifts one foot.

  Then she nods. “I have.” Her voice is small to match. “So small I could have disappeared.”

  We hold each other for a long moment. I may be the one standing, and she the one kneeling, but it’s Tansy who’s giving me a gift. It’s one so shining and pure that I hardly know what to do with it. I’ve entered into this pact with her trust and been too obtuse to realize what she was handing me.

  I have so much fear it threatens to swamp me. Fear and worry that I can’t be worthy of what she’s giving me. I don’t know how to be someone else’s lifeboat when I barely know how to steer my own ship. Even now, I don’t know how to do this. To guide us from emotion and depth to sex. Because that is what I’m supposed to do, isn’t it?

  I let myself have this time with Tansy wrapped around me. I fold my arms around her shoulders in return. My spine bends and my shoulders relax. Time marches on, and for once that’s okay.

  I have Tansy and she has me.

  I lose track of how long we hold each other before I tuck a couple of fingers under her chin and tip her face toward me. “Kiss me.”

  She has to stand up again to do it, but then her mouth is on me. We catch flames with both hands and drag the explosion around ourselves. I think we’re both throwing ourselves into the kiss, giving it everything we have, because our mouths—such a simple part of our bodies, the same and yet so different—are the easiest way to explore the enormity that’s happened to us.

  How long can we hang on to this feeling? How long can it last when the world itself is so impermanent?

  I wrap one arm around Tansy’s ass and heft her into my hold. She
pulls her lips from mine, gasping. “Be careful!”

  She’s taller than me this way. I have to look up and she’s looking down, which means that her curls fall around both of us. “You’re tiny. It’s fine.”

  She hitches her legs around my hips, which honestly does help balance her weight. What had been manageable becomes comfortable. Her wrists drape over my shoulders. She nuzzles my temple and brushes little kisses over the shell of my ear. The tickle makes me shiver.

  The small room means the bed isn’t far away. I toss her down. She flails to catch her balance and then leans on her elbows. The quilted bedspread bounces around her, raising the scent of cheap detergent. She’s grinning in a way that lights me up.

  “If I’m so little, how come ya needed to throw me down so quick?”

  “Because I like throwing you around?” I grab her ankles and yank her across the bed toward me. She squeals. I grab her hip for leverage and twist her onto her stomach. “No, wait. Because I have plans for you.”

  She’s laughing. She pushes to her hands and knees and makes a pretty earnest effort to scramble up the bed. “What plans?”

  “Why don’t you come back here and find out?” I snag one of her ankles, wishing I had her smooth skin instead of the cool leather boot. When I pull her back, she holds on to the blanket so that it comes with her and exposes stark white sheets.

  She doesn’t say anything, but she looks back over her shoulder and wiggles her butt. She settles low on her elbows so that she becomes a sinuous curve. I open my palms over her ass, letting my fingers appreciate her structure. Even through jeans, she’s soft enough that I only want more.

  So I bring one hand back to my shoulder, swing wide, and smack the hell out of her ass.

  “Oh!” She jolts, her toes coming together.

  “Too much? More?” My breathing is coming hard and fast. That same hand hovers in the air as if it would take flight on its own. I like that. I want to give her more. The sting in my palm has to be half the sting in her cheeks. There’s nothing in this entire world but her and me.

  If she says it’s too much, I’ll stop in an instant. This is only good if it’s her and me against the world. If it’s me against her, it defeats the whole purpose.