by Annette Mori
Sydney kept stealing glances in my direction. I was becoming increasingly uncomfortable, so I guzzled the rest of my drink and made an excuse to leave.
“Sorry Sydney.” I refused to address Hollie, the bitch. “Celeste and I need to leave if we’re going to North Bend and then get back at a decent hour.” I hastened to clarify that we would not be joining them for dinner. “We have a lot of shopping to do, so maybe a rain check on dinner.”
“Do we need to check for rain before going to dinner?” Celeste asked.
I gave her a nudge in the direction of the door. “She’s such a jokester.”
Celeste scrunched up her face in confusion, but followed me out the door.
I practically ran out of the coffee shop and only felt remotely calm when I reached the sanctuary of my car. Celeste followed more slowly and I was ready to peel out the minute she shut the door and buckled herself in. It’s a damn good thing there weren’t any cops around as I burned rubber in my haste to get as far away from Sydney as I could.
†
I didn’t want to be angry with Celeste and I certainly wasn’t prepared to confront her, so I just casually remarked, “Um I’m not exactly…”
I didn’t know how to finish the sentence and Celeste finished for me. “It was not a good thing that I mentioned what I learned in your book, was it?”
“No. That kind of teasing and joking around isn’t very helpful to someone like me.”
“Is it forbidden?” she asked.
“Uh no, it’s just that Sydney and Hollie can get away with being open about their relationship because they’re so popular and attractive. I’d never hear the end of it and I’m not that interested in being harassed until my last dying day.”
She tilted her head. “I have so much to learn. I do not understand yet, but perhaps I will in time.”
I spent the next hour telling her trivia about Snoqualmie Pass and pointing out various landmarks.
She acted like a kid turning her head this way and that, remarking on the beauty of the mountains. “We do not have this where I come from. It is very beautiful. I think I would like to explore these mountains.”
I wondered where she was from. I started thinking that maybe she’d led a very secluded life—never exposed to other parts of the US. I’d heard about people who were homeschooled and protected from the outside world. I wondered if her parents were nutcases and that’s why she was so unusual. I’d read about people, called empaths, who were sensitive to others. Of course instead of getting accolades for their special skill, they were isolated and shunned. I would just consider it my moral obligation to introduce her to many varied experiences, starting with a refreshing trek in the mountains.
“Well, I’m not much of a hiker, but I do own a pair of hiking boots and I could probably handle an easy hike or two,” I offered.
“I would like that.”
I didn’t want to jinx anything because I was really enjoying Celeste’s company, so I carefully broached the subject. “Um, Celeste, how long are you planning on visiting this area?”
“As long as it takes,” she responded.
Okay that was definitely not helpful. I quickly interjected, “Um, it’s no problem for me. You can stay as long as you like.” I added, “I want you to stay.”
“I will stay at least until the next moon change and then I will decide the future.”
So I had at least a month. I smiled at her.
†
We reached the outlet complex. I figured they would have everything she would need for the next month. My favorite place to shop was Banana Republic so I parked close to there. After Celeste got out of the car, I was so excited I grabbed her hand and pulled her to the store. I just knew she would look great in their clothes. Since she was about my size, I started pulling out pants, shorts, and shirts in a size six. Before I could check myself, there was a mountain of clothes in my arms the size of Mount Rainer. I laughed and she giggled right along with me.
She pulled me into the dressing room with her and I tried not to look, but it was hard—really hard. She didn’t seem to notice or care and never looked away as I gawked at her.
I was right, there wasn’t one outfit that didn’t look amazing on her, but she limited her purchases to three pair of jeans, shorts, long-sleeved and short-sleeved shirts. I wondered if she liked the number three.
She didn’t grab any underwear or socks, so I pulled out seven of each in different colors to match her new clothes.
I was curious about what else she might have in her backpack, as she rummaged inside and pulled out her wad of cash. I was amazed at how much money she had. It didn’t seem like she’d even made a dent in the roll. I hoped that Celeste wasn’t some kind of criminal like a drug dealer with all that cash. She really didn’t seem the type. I watched as she stuffed part of the money in her back pocket before placing the rest back in her backpack. I tried not to be too obvious about sneaking a peak, but she zipped it up before I had a chance to see what might be inside.
The sales clerk was one of those bored rebel types with an impressive amount of metal attached to her face. She was literally wearing a dog collar with spikes, and I wondered how she possibly kept her job. It’s not like Banana Republic is some punk clothing store. I watched Celeste scrutinize the young woman who rang up her purchases.
“Bella, does she need to be walked like a human canine companion?” Celeste pointed to the dog collar.
The woman raised her eyebrow, but fortunately didn’t seem offended.
I cringed at her question. “Um, no. I’m pretty sure that’s how she likes to accessorize,” I whispered.
“Accessorize?”
“Yes, dress up her outfit,” I explained.
“Is the metal on her face an accessory?” Celeste asked.
I didn’t want to offend the salesperson, so I was just about to lead us out the door when the young woman chuckled. I was whispering, but Celeste wasn’t especially quiet with her questions. She stuck her tongue out at Celeste displaying a small silver ball that prominently sparkled under the store lights.
The young woman winked at us. “This little accessory serves a dual purpose. My girlfriend loves it. You might want to get one.” She looked directly at me. “I guarantee she won’t be disappointed,” she added as she nodded in Celeste’s direction.
I blushed and mumbled, “Thanks.”
Recognition seemed to pass over Celeste’s face. “Oh, the little silver ball can be used to stimulate the clit when licking someone.”
The sales clerk laughed. “Yep, sure can.”
I tugged at Celeste and made a beeline for the door.
After we left the Banana Republic, an electronics store caught her eye and she stood mesmerized in front of the flat screen TV you could see through the window. Like a homing pigeon, she made a beeline for the section of the store with the fancy home theater systems. I followed her in like a puppy dog.
Normally stores put in action movies or animation because they show off the sound and color so well, but for some reason, this one had a romantic comedy because there was a couple starting to get a little steamy.
Celeste pointed at the television. “I would like to buy this instructional device.”
“That’s just a DVD playing. We can rent a DVD tonight if you’d like.”
“Will it instruct me on the things in your book?”
Okay, now I was starting to get a little worried. Maybe Celeste wasn’t joking before. Maybe my previous assumptions were correct and she was even more sheltered than I was. I silently cursed her idiot parents. I let an evil thought cross my brain. It had been quite some time since I’d watched a lesbian movie and if Celeste wanted some exposure to the dark side, well then, who was I to deny her? I already had a few favorites including the whole L Word series on DVD. Yep, the education of Celeste would begin this evening.
“Come on, Celeste. I have a nice TV at home and several DVDs that you might enjoy. You don’t need to buy that. We s
hould get you a comfortable pair of boots for hiking, and maybe a pair of tennis shoes or something casual for kicking around.”
“Kicking around? I don’t wish to kick anything, I think that would cause harm,” she stated.
I laughed. She was so quirky. “I recommend Sketchers. They are the best shoes to do a lot of walking in.”
She nodded and we proceeded to purchase a pair of hiking boots, a pair of Sketchers, and some casual loafers.
†
I was getting hungry again so I suggested we stop somewhere for lunch. The North Bend Bar and Grill was relatively close, so I made the executive decision to stop there for a late lunch.
Celeste was eager to eat again. She sure seemed to enjoy food. Every time she ate, I would hear that humming sound. I didn’t know where she put it all. For such a petite woman, she could pack in the food. She ate with more gusto than I’d ever seen anyone do before.
Since it was well past lunchtime and the parking lot was nearly empty, I knew we wouldn’t have to wait for a table.
I think Celeste was learning to pace herself because she took my suggestion on what to order, and after we finished our meal, when the waitress asked if we wanted dessert, she followed my lead and shook her head. I didn’t know if she was a vegetarian or not, but I decided to suggest the Portobello mushroom sandwich with sweet potato fries. Of course, she hummed again and the tempo increased just a tad after she took a bite of one of the fries. They were my favorite, too.
Sometimes I thought I would be happy with just sweet potato fries for lunch, but I kept hearing my mom’s voice in my head that I needed to eat better or I’d blow up like a balloon. I wasn’t overweight anymore, but that didn’t stop me from feeling guilty every time I ate something that was remotely fattening.
When the check came, she snaked her arm out so quickly and grabbed the check from the waitress. “I noticed that the treat this morning required the paper I carry, and I would like to supply this for the food we consumed.”
She lifted her right cheek, pulled out her money, and glanced at the check. I wasn’t sure if she knew how much to give to the waitress so I looked at the check, pulled two twenties from the roll, and set them on the table. “That will be plenty and give the waitress a very nice tip. Thank you for lunch, Celeste.”
“You are most welcome, Bella.”
I slid from the booth and grabbed her hand. I was proud of myself for being so bold. Her hand felt nice in mine and there was a sort of warm energy that traveled up my arm. I never wanted to let go. We climbed into my old beater and headed for home.
†
I needed to go to the grocery store to pick up some food for the next couple of days. I was going to impress Celeste with my cooking and maybe she would stay even longer. I was getting used to her quirky sense of humor and, of course, it didn’t hurt that she was drop dead gorgeous. I was convinced that shopping with Celeste would be another adventure.
Celeste continued to look out the window and seemed in awe of the scenery around her. I guess I’d taken the beauty of the Pacific Northwest and the mountains for granted because I’d lived here all my life. As I watched Celeste admire the beauty, I had a new appreciation for where I lived.
It was a rare day and the sun was shining not only on the east side of the Cascade Mountains, but on the west side as well. Seattle was infamous for their rainy days, but on the east side, it was almost like a different state. In some parts of the state, the towns and cities boasted having over three hundred days of sunshine. It was one of the things I really liked about Washington—the diversity of weather. Since there was still some residual snow on the mountaintops, I had to admit it was breathtaking. When the sun bounced off the snow, the twinkles of light created a unique show for all to see. The reservoir, which was fed from the mountain runoff, displayed a perfect reflection of the majestic snowcapped peaks.
I pulled into the perpetually busy Safeway parking lot and Celeste followed me into the store.
†
I grabbed one of the smaller carts because I didn’t really need to pick up too many things. Celeste kept looking around at all of the items stacked up neatly in the aisles. When she got to the meat and seafood section, she seemed dazed. As she looked at the whole salmon laid out on ice with their dead eyes staring at nothing, I wondered if her sheltered life included exposure to seafood. She crinkled her nose at the fish and the ridiculously red meat on display. I noticed her focusing on a trickle of blood that seemed to escape from one of the rib roasts.
“You eat the flesh of animals?” she asked.
“I don’t eat beef, pork, or lamb, but on occasion I do eat chicken and fish,” I replied sheepishly. As I looked at her face, I suddenly felt guilty for not being a complete vegetarian. It felt wrong. I tried to shoo her away from what appeared to be the slaughter of helpless animals, birds, and fish.
“Are chicken and fish good to eat?” she inquired.
I nodded. “Yeah actually they are really tasty, especially on top of a salad. I even like fish raw. I feel bad about it, but sushi is one of my all-time favorite foods.”
I figured, since she asked, I could get some salmon and let her decide for herself if she liked it. I pointed to a wild salmon fillet and the man behind the counter wrapped it for me. I pitched the treat into my cart and continued to the packaged meats section.
She followed me to the refrigerated foods section and looked at all the packages—scrutinizing everything closely. For some reason, she was particularly intrigued with the sausages and hot dogs.
She picked up a packet of chicken hot dogs and scrunched up her nose. “These do not look like chickens or dogs. Dogs are pets right? Surely you do not eat your pets.”
I laughed. “No, they take parts from the chickens and grind them up. I don’t even want to know what parts they actually take, but I have to admit to sometimes liking a grilled hotdog occasionally. No we don’t eat dogs here, but I think they do in some countries.” I grabbed the processed meat from her hands and tossed it into the cart like I was making a basketball shot.
I traversed over to the bread aisle looking for some whole-wheat buns for the hot dogs.
She looked into the cart and asked a question that I was sure was one of the most guarded mysteries of the world, but being the nerd I am, I’d looked up the answer and was ready for her inquiry.
“Why are there ten hotdogs and only eight bread covers?” she asked.
“Very good question and inquiring minds like my own wanted to know that very answer, so I looked it up many years ago. Meat packers like to sell their items by the pound and ten hotdogs weigh one pound. Bakers don’t like to make anything in multiples of ten because it’s harder to split dough into five pieces. I guess it’s easier to divide the dough into two or three pieces, so they prefer multiples of either eight or twelve. Before you ask, a baker’s dozen is usually the result of that little extra piece of dough.”
She smiled at me and I got the distinct impression that my explanation wasn’t particularly satisfying to her.
When we got to the checkout stand, she pulled out cash from her back pocket and tried to pay. We had our first argument in line because she was my guest and I thought it improper that she should pay for groceries.
“You can just put that away. I got this. You are my guest and I want to cook for you.” I pushed her hand with the cash away from the grocery clerk.
“I was able to obtain plenty of this paper. I wish to contribute equally,” she insisted.
I wanted to ask how she got the cash, but we were in the middle of an argument, and I’m kind of stubborn sometimes. “I let you pay for lunch, which by the way I wasn’t that comfortable with, so put your money away. You’re insulting me.”
“I suggest we both contribute,” she offered and looked at me with those beautiful lavender eyes.
I sighed. It wasn’t what I really wanted, but I’d never been much of a fighter and she seemed adamant, so I gave in. “Okay, but really I can afford this.
I’m not poor, you know.”
The clerk just looked back and forth between the two of us and, when we finally decided, she held out her hand for the money, half from me and half from Celeste.
Our hands touched when we forked over the money to the clerk and I felt a tingle all the way to my toes. I had it bad and I was in trouble. I was interacting with a real live woman, not some fantasy woman in one of my books. Even though she was odd, she was sweet, and she had this ability to bring me out of my shell.
No one had ever even come close to that, except maybe Sydney. Although I had to admit that even Sydney hadn’t been able to get me to come out as a lesbian. Celeste had discovered my secret and I didn’t care. I was happy about it.
As the grocery clerk was making change from the cash we’d given her, I noticed Celeste looking at the tattoo on her neck. I inwardly groaned, anticipating what new question might come out of Celeste.
I wasn’t surprised when she asked, “Bella, why did someone draw on her neck? Is that a tribal symbol?”
The clerk glared at us.
I grabbed the change from the dispenser and gently pushed Celeste toward the automatic doors. I whispered in her ear. “That’s a tattoo from the tribe, rebellious youth, even though pretty much everyone has one now.”
I heard the clerk express her displeasure. “Weirdos.”
“I do not understand.” Celeste looked confused.
“Never mind.” I pushed her out the door before rotten tomatoes starting flying in our direction.
We left the grocery store unscathed with our bounty, and I drove us back to my cozy home.
†
I knew that Celeste didn’t have any idea where the groceries went, so I told her to relax in the living room while I put everything away. Of course she made a beeline to the erotica and picked it up again, flipping quickly through the book. I think she found my hidden cache because she pulled out two more books and began flipping through those pages as well. I wondered if she’d taken some kind of Evelyn Wood speed-reading course.