“I hope you took payment only for the first part of the evening and not for the show we gave the folks up on the balcony later.”
Hal laughed. They may have missed a good portion of the fireworks while they made out on the roof of the truck. Still, nothing crossed into the type of behavior people would pay to see. “We kept everything PG-13.”
“At least until we got into Natalie’s guest room.”
“Well yeah, people would’ve paid a lot more to see that part.”
“I might be willing to pay a hefty price for a repeat,” Quinn said, reaching over and resting her hand on Hal’s thigh. A myriad of images flashed through Hal’s mind so vividly, she had a hard time seeing the road: Quinn naked on top of her, under her, pressed against her from behind. Not the type of things one wanted to think about while merging onto the Bourne Bridge.
“So, Cape Cod,” she said, her voice coming out a little strangled.
Quinn bit her lip as if trying to hold in a laugh, but she gave Hal’s thigh a little squeeze before mercifully moving her hand. “Yes, tell me about Cape Cod.”
“Well,” Hal said, “it’s expensive and busy this time of year, and not easy to get around. Be prepared for traffic.”
“You’re a wonderful salesperson.”
“Just preparing you for what we’ll have to go through in order for me to tell you it’ll all be worth the trouble as soon as we roll into Provincetown.”
“Provincetown? That’s like a pretty gay place, right?”
“It is, but not like San Francisco or the Village. It’s not some city mecca. If you took the people off the street, you’d think you were in the middle of any little New England fishing village. It’s cute and homey and overflowing with so much charm, you can hardly stand it.”
“Sounds lovely,” Quinn practically sighed.
“It is. Even on its own it’d be a nice spot to visit, but when you add the people, you inject a whole ‘nother layer of wonderfulness, and the Fourth of July weekend is one of the busiest of the whole year.”
“So it’ll be crowded?”
“It will, and a huge portion of the crowd will be gay,” Hal explained gleefully. “Hundreds, maybe thousands, of gay men and lesbians owning the streets. Pretty streets, nice streets, friendly streets. Shops and restaurants will cater to us, straight families will move in and out of the groups, the minority for once, and they’re generally just fine with that.”
“I can’t imagine. I mean I’ve never had any trouble in Buffalo, but I’ve always been the minority. I’ve never been anywhere where queers outnumbered straight people. I’ve never even given any thought to that possibility.”
“Well now you can. We both agree Buffalo is amazing, but there are other amazing places out there, Quinn. You just have to give yourself the freedom to wander.”
Quinn didn’t respond right away. Had Hal pushed too hard? She hadn’t meant to be heavy-handed. She just wanted to make sure Quinn saw what she saw in the world: the magic, the adventure, the beauty. Hal looked over, hoping to search her eyes, but Quinn had turned to stare out the window.
She was stunning there in profile, but she was equally gorgeous from every angle. Hal felt an increasingly familiar tightness in her chest. She wanted to take her hand, pull her close, make her feel the mix of emotions she felt. Mostly, though, she wanted to see her smile, a broad, genuine flash of effervescence. That desire was not convoluted like the others. It was pure and strong and sprung from someplace deep inside of her. Whatever intentions she’d still had for their trip, one in particular now stood out above all the others: she wanted to make Quinn happy.
“Once we get to Ptown, the schedule is all yours,” she offered.
“You don’t have anything on the agenda?” Quinn asked.
“Not really,” she said, unwilling to reveal any of her most pressing goals. “Well, other than a lobster roll. Wait, excuse me, a lobstah roll.”
“Lobstah roll?” Quinn repeated the phrase with the classic Boston accent. “Why do I have a feeling I’m about to get another culinary lesson?”
“Nope,” Hal said. “No lesson. Lobstah rolls aren’t something someone can talk about. They must be experienced.”
“Well then, I’d better experience one. That’s what this trip is all about, right? New experiences?”
Hal thought for a moment before nodding slowly. The trip was becoming about so many things, some she’d intended and some that had caught her by surprise. But with everything she’d done and felt so far, she could say without a doubt that the last twenty-four hours had certainly been a new experience.
They strolled down Commercial Street, which Quinn had learned was the main thoroughfare of Provincetown despite the fact that it was barely one lane wide and clogged with tourists almost to the point of inaccessibility to cars. When Hal had wrestled Cheesy Does It into a jam-packed lot at the edge of town and said they’d be walking from there, Quinn got nervous, but she shouldn’t have. Apparently almost every place in the small fishing village turned gay Mecca was walkable, and the town was even easier on the eyes than on the feet.
The late afternoon sun cast a summer glow across everything, making even the most weathered Cape Cod cottage-turned-art gallery seem bright and inviting. Quinn wanted to look in them all, and maybe on this weekend of whims she actually might, but for now she couldn’t imagine going inside anywhere. At least not when she could still get a peek of the shimmering azure waters of Provincetown Harbor. Surely no painting could accurately capture such a perfect scene, though she fully understood why a hundred years’ worth of artists had tried.
“Hal, look at the boats,” she exclaimed as she caught another glimpse of the main wharf between a restaurant and a hat shop.
Hal smiled. “You like sailboats?”
“I guess I do.”
“You guess?”
“I know people sail them on the lake in Buffalo, but not anyone I know. I don’t recall ever having given them any thought until right now. But they’re so beautiful. It looks like the opening scene to some movie about someone throwing away their eighty-hour a week job to sail around the world.”
“And what about you?” Hal nudged. “Would you star in that movie?”
Quinn stopped walking. She hadn’t really thought of this as anything more than a day in paradise. Had Hal? Is that why she’d brought her here? “I’m not ready to sail off into the sunset, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” Hal said, “but we could get a closer look at one of the boats. If you’d like?”
“Oh, I would,” Quinn said, forgetting her concerns about the thought. “Do you think they give rides?”
“Rides?” Hal asked.
“Like around the harbor?”
“I think they call them cruises, but yes, I’m sure they do. They also give whale-watching tours.”
“Whales?” Quinn said in wonder. “You don’t see many of those in Buffalo.”
“No.” Hal laughed. “You sure don’t.”
As they passed out of view of the harbor again, Quinn allowed herself to look around in other directions. There were actually a lot of things around Provincetown she’d never seen in Buffalo, like men clad in all leather sauntering alongside lesbians pushing twin toddlers in a double stroller. Street performers stomped out a rhythm while nearby someone tried to hand them a flyer for a women’s oil wrestling contest. Hal reached out to accept, but Quinn shook her head.
“Hey, a girl can hope.”
“Hope,” Quinn repeated. They did seem to keep coming back to that theme today. She didn’t generally believe in signs. She liked the practical, the concrete, the objective. But she had to admit, something about this place and its creative energy did make her wonder. If a little town thrust out into the Atlantic Ocean, vulnerable to the sea and surf, could find a way not only to survive, but to thrive, what else was out there for her? If Portuguese fishermen could strike a balance with radical queers and Cape Cod yuppies, what other crossro
ads could be built to bring people together? A place like this shouldn’t have worked. The populations were too different, the location too remote, the infrastructure seemingly insufficient to support this many businesses. And yet here she stood, watching the most beautiful, happy, energetic crowd of people amble by.
“We’re in no hurry,” Hal said. “Just let me know if you see anything you want to try.”
She scanned the stores around them: a bike rental place, a seafood restaurant—no, two of them—next to a leather goods dealer. So many interesting choices, but nothing in particular pulled at her chest until her eyes fell on two women walking toward them holding hands. They didn’t look at all different from any of the other couples on the street, and that was exactly the point. Two women, totally wrapped up in each other, fingers interlocked right in the middle of a crowded walkway, and not at all out of place.
Quinn nodded toward them subtly. “I’d like to do that.”
Hal looked around, seeming to miss them completely. “What?”
Quinn reached out and took Hal’s hand in hers, enjoying the sight of the different skin tones coming together as their fingers laced through one another’s and held tight. When she looked up, Hal was watching her, the corners of her mouth quirking up slightly. “This.”
Quinn shrugged, suddenly aware of what she’d just done and the multitude of implications it might have. Still, instead of letting go she started walking again, this time more slowly, their bodies closer together. As they settled in, she relaxed. Hal’s hand was soft, warm, comforting. She’d seen other people hold hands of course, but now she finally understood the appeal. “This is a new experience for me.”
“Me too,” Hal admitted.
“Really? You seem like the kind of person who would’ve held hands with a lot of girls.”
“Don’t believe everything you read in Spree,” Hal said quickly, then added, “I guess I’ve just never let myself get close enough to someone to trust they wouldn’t pull away from me.”
Quinn gasped. “Hal.”
“Hey, it’s okay. My choice, mostly,” she said, then swallowed noticeably. “Don’t get all sappy on me. It’s your first time too. There must be a reason.”
“Fair enough.” She thought for a moment. “I guess I just never took the time to let myself want to. You may’ve noticed, when I set a goal, I can get a bit single-minded.”
“No. You?”
“Shocking, but yes. Holding hands on Commercial Street just wasn’t in the five-year plan.”
“No, I guess not.” Hal seemed to think about that for a moment, her lips pursed slightly. “Funny, I never let anything go on too long, and you plan everything out so far you never let anything else get started. Now we’re a couple of grown women who don’t know how to hold hands the way a couple of teenagers could easily.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say we don’t know how.” Quinn gave Hal’s hand a little squeeze. “We seem to have figured it out. We must be fast learners.”
“We’re brilliant really,” Hal agreed. “Hand-holding geniuses.”
The lightness of the moment overwhelmed Quinn, and she felt like she might actually be able to walk on air if not for her complete desire to keep both feet firmly planted in this moment for as long as possible.
They swung their arms lightly together as they reached the center of town and the entrance to MacMillan Wharf.
“Let’s go out on the pier,” Hal suggested, and Quinn readily agreed. They turned down the wide, wooden walkway, and as they passed the last of the big buildings, they stepped right into the expansive harbor view she’d been seeking.
It was like walking into a painting. The water spread out around them on all sides, bold, blue, and glistening in the sun. Gulls called overhead, and hundreds of sailboats bobbed around the docks. In the distance, a stretch of land curled out around the harbor where a lighthouse rose tall and white from the sandy dunes.
“I’ve never seen anything like it.” Quinn just couldn’t find enough effusive words to describe such a place. “It’s just so mind-bogglingly pretty.”
Hal grinned proudly. “I’m so glad you get it. The first time I came here, I was eighteen and almost didn’t leave. I ran into a man who said he’d been coming every summer for more than thirty years. He told me the place always called him back. I thought it might be the same for me.”
“And?”
“I haven’t missed a season yet.”
“You’ve been coming here for eleven years?”
“I’m a nomad, but just like Buffalo always calls me home, something here always calls me back out again.”
“I like the idea of being back here next year,” Quinn said before she’d thought it through. She hadn’t meant to imply she wanted to be included in one of Hal’s yearly traditions. She wasn’t even sure what their relationship would look like when they got back to Buffalo in two days, much less who they would be to each other a year from now. Would they even be friends? Or would they go back to their own separate lives without the idea of the restaurant to hold them together? The thought went a long way toward dampening her mood, and she turned back to the amazing vista in an attempt to boost it again. “Hey, which boat is your favorite?”
Hal examined several of them, walking a little farther down the pier as she did.
“This one’s nice.” Quinn pointed to a little one with one brightly colored sail.
“It’s cute, but hardly seems seaworthy.”
“Hmm, I’m not sure I’m qualified to judge which ones are fit for open water. I just like the pretty ones.”
“I like this one,” Hal said, pointing to a classic-looking sailboat. It was midsized compared to the others, with lacquered wood finishings, a tall mast, and neatly furled sails. The sides were navy blue, with the name Esperanza painted in bold white letters along the right side.
“She’s beautiful.”
“How do you know it’s a girl?” Hal asked.
“I thought all boats were girls.”
“It does seem that way,” Hal said, then her eyes brightened, “which means we should not have trouble finding our way around her.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, not to brag or anything, but I happen to be pretty good with women, and I also know you’re not bad yourself.”
“Gee, thanks,” Quinn said, but the playfulness of her comments was undercut by the realization that Hal had inched closer to the Esperanza. “Don’t fall in the harbor, Fryboi.”
“I’m not going in the water. I’m going on the boat.” Hal stepped off the dock and onto the deck. Quinn held tight to her hand, now less for the romantic notion and more out of the frantic desire to pull her back.
“Hal, what are you doing?”
“I want to check her out. See if she’s good enough for us to stow away on. Come with me.”
“You can’t be serious,” Quinn said in a low, warning whisper.
“I am. Come look around.” She gave her arm a little tug, and Quinn had to hop over the small, metal rail and onto the ship to keep from falling off the pier.
“Hal, this is not okay. We’re trespassing.”
“We don’t have to stay long if you don’t want to. Just look around for a second.”
Quinn stayed planted in the spot where she’d landed, her heart pounding in her chest. She was not a rule breaker. She’d never trespassed in her life, and she didn’t much like being forced to do so now.
Hal hopped down off the deck to the area near the big silver steering wheel at the back, then turned to offer her hand to Quinn.
“No,” Quinn said. “I’m not going any farther.”
“I’ll make you a deal. Just come down and look around real quick. If you don’t like her, we can go.”
“It’s not that I don’t like her—”
“So you do like her?”
She rolled her eyes as she started to seriously doubt the sanity of the woman she’d just been worrying about spending the next year with.
> “Two seconds,” Hal pleaded, and Quinn figured the sooner she relented, the sooner they could get out of trouble.
With a heavy sigh, she accepted Hal’s hand and stepped down to the floor. From there she could see two bench seats and a door that must lead to an inside cabin. The boat felt amazingly sturdy beneath her, and she had to admit she liked the smell, like wood and salt mixed together.
Hal stepped up behind her, wrapping her arms around her waist and resting her chin on her shoulder. “So?” she whispered.
“So, I like her,” Quinn admitted, relaxing just a little into Hal’s embrace. How could she not? But liking something didn’t make it hers. “I like her a lot. There, I said it. Now can we go?”
“We could. If you want,” Hal said, fishing in her pocket before pulling out a key and dangling it in front of Quinn, “or we could stay for two nights.”
She whirled around in the circle of Hal’s embrace.
“What?”
“I’ve got her rented for you for two nights. The living space isn’t big or fancy, but—”
Quinn cut her off by capturing her mouth with her own, kissing her gleefully as the water rocked them gently against each other. This woman was too much, much too much to believe, and yet she did. She believed in every amazing feeling Hal inspired in her. The hope and frustration, the fear and the joy—it all rose up in her and spilled out into their kiss.
“Wow,” Hal said when Quinn finally released her. “So you don’t want to go look for somewhere else to stay?”
Quinn punched her in the arm with her best right hook, and it must have worked because Hal’s eyes widened in surprise. “Ouch. Was that a no?”
“No.” Quinn punched her in the other arm.
“Hey!”
“That was for making me think we were breaking the law.” God, she’d been so high-strung, and Hal had known all along they had every right to be there. Her annoyance must’ve shown on her face.
Hal ducked and raised her hands. “Is there another one coming?”
Quinn stared at her for a few seconds, arms folded across her chest. “No. Unless I decide to give you one for being so insanely amazing.”
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