Bouncing

by Jaime Maddox

  With two easy strides, Alex stood before Brit and locked those brilliant eyes into hers as she offered her hand. Brit cleared her throat as she extended her own, surprised at the slight tremor that coursed through her entire being, lucky to find the outstretched hand while her eyes were glued to Alex’s. The firm grip with which Alex shook her hand broke the trance, and Brit turned her attention to the fingers she suspected could be broken. In spite of the pain, she managed to squeeze back.

  “It’s nice to finally meet you.” Alex smiled, and if Brit was off balance from the vision of Alex, the reaction her smile caused was downright dangerous.

  It took a second to find her voice in the clutter of her brain. She cleared her throat. “Yes. You, too.”

  Alex found herself falling into the warm pool of Brit’s eyes. They were wide and welcoming, and she couldn’t help herself. They seemed to capture Alex and suck her in, causing vertigo that made her reach for the chair to steady herself.

  “Would you like a drink?” she asked, trying to make conversation.

  “I’m good right now, thanks,” Brit said, and took a seat where Sal indicated.

  “So, I hear we’re going to work together.” Alex set the bucket on the table and took a seat on a glider across from Brit’s chair, wanting a good place from where she could talk to Brit and check out her sexy legs. Sal hadn’t mentioned that Brit was gorgeous, which she was, or gay, which Alex suspected from the way Brit had checked her out. She was distracted from her gawking by the unexpectedly exuberant response to her statement.

  Brit’s smile was huge, and she seemed to be bursting with happiness at the prospect of her job. “Yes. A full-time teaching job!”

  Alex laughed, remembering her own reaction when she was hired not so long ago. She looked at Brit again and realized it wasn’t so much her beauty that was the attraction, but the light in her eyes. Brit seemed to glow from within, which drew Alex like bugs to the zapper on a warm summer’s night. And Alex sucked in a breath as she realized that she had, in fact, been zapped.

  Everyone laughed, and Sue replied, “Well, your first job certainly is exciting. Congratulations.”

  “Thanks. Sue, were you a teacher, too?”

  She laughed. “Nothing so exciting. I was a stockbroker. A long, long time ago. Now I’m retired.”

  “How’s that going?” she asked.

  Both Sal and Sue laughed. “It’s exhausting,” they said in unison. They told her about their agenda of golf leagues, volunteer work, gardening, and exotic vacations.

  “And you live here full time?” Brit asked.

  “Yeah, this is it. With our parents gone, we decided to move toward friendlier, warmer skies. And we’re close enough to home that we can visit—but quite honestly, our friends prefer to come here.”

  Brit gestured to the water beyond their tree-lined yard. “I can see why.”

  Sue wiped a bead of sweat from her brow. “It is lovely, but I’ve had enough of it for today. I need a change of venue,” she said, and looked at all of them. “This heat is getting to me. Let’s take the party inside.”

  Sal looked like she might argue but then suddenly stood. “You’re right, Suzie. It’s too hot out here.”

  It was technically evening, and although the sun had begun its westward descent, it still cast powerful rays across the open space of the patio. Sal stood and offered Sue her hand, and with Alex once again carrying the drinks, they headed indoors.

  “You have a beautiful home,” Brit said as she looked around. Inside the sliding-glass doors was a dining room, with a wall of glass facing the water. On the opposite side of this large, open-style room was a couch with two chairs, a television, and all the furnishings of a living room. It, too, had a wall of glass looking out at the patio, the landscape, and the cove beyond.

  Sal beamed. “Thank you,” she said, and pointed them in that direction, where they all made themselves comfortable. Seated in a chair where she could easily watch the other three women, Britain chose a bottle of water from the collection in the oversized bucket, ignoring the soda, beer, and wine coolers she saw. She wanted to keep her wits intact, to make a good impression, and she suspected the intoxicating Alex Dalton could fluster her even without the assistance of alcohol. If she started drinking, Brit would be in trouble for sure.

  Brit waved toward the wall of glass. “What a view.”

  “Well, yes, it is. It was the main reason we bought the house.”

  “Why Rehoboth?” Brit asked, although she suspected she knew the answer.

  “It’s gay. We wanted to be somewhere where we’re the rule instead of the exception. And besides, we have great restaurants, a nice beach, and a dozen wonderful golf courses.”

  Brit agreed on all counts. “Where do you play?” she asked.

  “Oh, all over. We’re in a league, but otherwise we don’t limit ourselves. How about you, Britain? Do you play?”

  “Yes, as a matter of fact, I do.”

  “So you live in Bear Creek? Do you play at Wilkes-Barre Muni? That’s in Bear Creek, isn’t it?” Alex asked.

  Brit met her gaze and nodded. Sally must have mentioned her hometown to Alex. The Wilkes-Barre Municipal course wasn’t actually located in Wilkes-Barre, but just a few miles from Brit’s parents’ place. “Sometimes. Mostly I play at Red Fox Run. I’m in the league there.”

  Alex raised an interested eyebrow. “I love The Run. Do you play the team matches? You may have played against my mom,” Alex said.

  Shifting her position to see Alex more easily, Brit smiled. “As a matter of fact, I do. What club does she play for?”

  “Mountain Meadows.”

  Brit nodded. The Meadows was one of her favorite courses, and she told Alex so. “What’s your mom’s name? What group is she in?”

  “Liz. Liz Dalton. I think she’s in the second flight.”

  Pursing her lips, Brit tried to place the name. “I don’t think I’ve met her. Is she tall like you? I’d probably remember that.”

  Alex nodded. “I can look at my mom and tell what I’ll look like in thirty years.”

  Their eyes met again, and Brit couldn’t help the slight upturn at the corners of her mouth. “Then we haven’t met.” Brit definitely would have remembered a woman who looked like Alex, even a slightly more mature model. Brit realized she was flirting but couldn’t help herself. Alex was gorgeous and, so far, seemed able to carry on an intelligent conversation. Was she single? More importantly, was she gay?

  Then Brit remembered her manners. She wasn’t in the habit of throwing herself at women, even if they were gorgeous, so she wiped the smirk off her face and thought of her mother’s prim-and-proper demeanor. It wasn’t Brit who responded, but her inner mother. “Do you play, Alex?”

  “Yes, as much as I can. Perhaps before the weather turns, you can join me at The Meadows. It’s not far from school.”

  Brit loved the idea of playing at one of her favorite courses, and she’d like the chance to spend a little time with Alex and get to know her better. “I’d love to.”

  “Alex was a sub in the league this year, and she kicked butt,” Sue offered.

  Brit laughed. She’d only been in Sue’s company for a few minutes, but already she could tell that comment was out of character for the sweet and refined lady.

  “Really?” Brit asked.

  Sal told the story about Alex teaming up with the league to bring down the cheater. “Three-quarters of the way through the summer, when Ann Marie realized she had no chance of making the playoffs to defend her championship, she mysteriously injured her shoulder and withdrew from the league.”

  Brit offered her knuckles to Alex in congratulations. She hated cheaters, too. They violated the spirit of the game, and no matter what the sport, integrity was important. It carried over to all aspects of life, and people who cheated at sports couldn’t be trusted off the field, either. The thought of her personal life flashed across her mind, and the lies she was telling her family, but she quickly buried
it. That was different.

  “You guys rock,” she said. “So you spend your summers here, too?” Brit asked, directing the question at Alex.

  “Yep. I come down the day school lets out and basically stay the summer.”

  “That must be a lot of fun. Maybe I’ll get a job here one day so I can spend the summer at the beach.”

  Alex looked at her intently with those bright blue eyes. “Who says you need a job? Just come.”

  Brit laughed. “Well, Alex, I’m used to sleeping in a bed and bathing in a tub. If I didn’t have a job I’d have to sleep on the beach and wash in the ocean, because I’m pretty much destitute right now.”

  “Well, I have a place that’s very reasonably priced, so if we’re still speaking at the end of the school year, I can hook you up.”

  Brit opened her eyes wide. What a great time that would be, spending the entire summer in the town she loved so much. There were so many rainbow flags and people like Sally and Sue. And Alex. Whether she could afford it was another matter, and she was sure Alex was just making conversation when she suggested Brit spend the summer in Rehoboth, but still, the thought was intoxicating. “Sounds good to me,” she replied.

  Alex offered knuckles again. “It’s a date,” she said.

  Brit flushed from her head to her painted toes peeking from her slides. Alex was flirting with her, and while it wasn’t unwelcome, it was unexpected. She’d come to Sally’s house to meet a friend, nothing more. Alex’s good looks and flirty manner had thrown Brit off balance. She needed to change the subject.

  “Do you work down here?” Brit asked.

  “No, I’m just a beach bum,” Alex said, without a hint of defensiveness.

  “Where do you stay when you’re at the beach?” Sue directed her question to Brit, and Brit told them about the house her family had been renting for years.

  “Do you ever come with friends?” Alex asked. “Stay in Rehoboth?”

  Brit shook her head. She felt uncomfortable with Alex’s questions. Even though they seemed innocent enough, Brit felt like Alex was looking a little too closely at her, examining her. Why did that bother her? Women didn’t usually affect her in this way. The need to switch positions and tuck back the stray hair behind her ears, to clear her throat—they were all suddenly irrepressible urges. This unrest was unsettling. Brit needed to ask more questions and answer fewer. “Where do you stay, Alex?” she asked.

  “I share a condo.” Alex told Brit about the house she shared with her friends and listed half a dozen reasons Brit should spend the next summer in Rehoboth. With some playful coaxing from Alex, Brit admitted it sounded great. Then Sal gave them the history of their house hunting and how they’d come to find their dream home beside the Rehoboth Bay, and Brit’s anxiety dissipated.

  Brit commented on the layout of the house. “This is perfect for entertaining.”

  “And we do,” Sue said. “There’s a kitchen to die for just behind us.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. Do you cook?”

  Brit shrugged. Her dorm and college apartments hadn’t lent themselves to cooking much more than simple dishes, and while her parents’ house featured a gourmet kitchen, it also had her mother at the helm. Brit could cook, but she simply wasn’t allowed to. “I’m okay.”

  “What do you like to cook?” Alex asked, her blue eyes focused intently on Brit in a way that made her feel naked, as if Alex could see it all—the dorm-room Crock Pot, the aged oven in her off-campus apartment, and the Thanksgiving turkey at her mother’s house. Instead of intimidating her, Alex’s interest gave her the confidence to speak.

  “Everything. I like watching cooking shows and finding recipes in magazines. I like to try new things. I’ll eat anything that’s not still moving, so I try to cook all kinds of foods. How about you?”

  “Peanut butter and jelly is about it. But I love to eat, so I tend to find friends who can cook. We may just make a good team.”

  Brit shook her head. “No, no, no. That’s not how it works. You have to help if you want to eat, Alex.”

  “But I’d hurt the food. Its own mother wouldn’t recognize it when I was done with it.”

  Brit laughed. “You can be the sous chef.”

  Alex shook her head and pointed at Sue. “No, she’s the Sue chef. I’m just the food taster.”

  “And a great cleaner-upper,” Sue said, defending Alex’s honor.

  “Yes. I’ll clean everything and put it all away. I’m very talented at dishwashing.”

  “I’ll let you show off your skills in a little while. Are you ladies getting hungry?” Sue asked.

  Glancing at the clock, Britain was surprised to see it was nearly seven. They’d been talking for an hour. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

  In the dining room, Sal served fruit in chilled glasses and they switched to a light chardonnay. Brit decided to have a glass of the wine. It was one of her favorites, and she’d relaxed enough to know she could enjoy a glass of it. Dinner consisted of pasta with shrimp, and more fruit—this time in a tart—followed for dessert, compliments of Brit.

  Brit studied the tart for a moment before piercing a raspberry with her fork. “I can’t ever get mine to stay crisp like this. The crust gets soggy.”

  “So you bake, too?”

  “Oh, yeah. I love to bake.”

  Alex smiled. “That sounds perfect. I like to eat. Baked goods, I mean.”

  Brit swallowed, flushed under the intensity of Alex’s gaze. Was Alex really flirting with her? Seriously? Their eyes met, and Brit felt breathless, immediately regretting the wine. It was making her woozy.

  “Well, let’s get this stuff put away,” Sal suggested, breaking the spell. Brit was again surprised by how quickly time passed as they cleared the dinner table and retreated to the living room. They’d been talking and laughing and sharing stories for nearly three hours.

  “So, tell me about your name,” Alex suggested to Brit as she looked at her with mischief in her eyes. This was definitely flirting, Brit thought. They were once again relaxed in the comfy leather chairs, separated only by a cocktail table. “I suspect there must be a story behind it.”

  Brit rolled her eyes. “Yes, lucky me. I’m named after the trip to England my parents canceled because of my impending birth.”

  Sue looked perplexed. “What happened?”

  “My mom’s due date was early summer. She would have been in labor in London while my dad was at Wimbledon watching tennis.”

  “Fortunately, they didn’t name you Wimbledon,” Alex said.

  “London? They could have gone with London,” Sal suggested.

  Brit chuckled. “I think I lucked out with Britain. Most people call me Brit and never know I’m not just another Brittany.”

  “It beats Wimmy and Lonny. I like it,” Alex said. “It’s sophisticated but fun at the same time.”

  “What about you? Is Alex short for something else, or are you just Alex?”

  Alex seemed to contemplate her answer. How hard could it be? It was her name, after all. Or maybe she was debating whether she should answer. Brit was still wondering why when Alex’s voice surprised her. “Alexis.”

  Brit pursed her lips and studied Alex, suspecting from the hesitation she wasn’t thrilled with her parent’s choice of baby names. “It sounds goddess-like.”

  Sal and Sue burst into laughter and Brit just stared, until Alex began laughing, too. “Okay, what did I miss?” she asked finally.

  Alex frowned. “I’m not much of a goddess, Britain.”

  Brit studied Alex for a moment. In her fitted tank and cargo shorts, with lean muscle visible on every inch of exposed flesh, she did appear to be quite the goddess.

  “Just what goddess would you be? Alexis, the Golf Goddess?” Sue asked around the wineglass hovering at her lips.

  Alex bit her lip and shook her head, taking the teasing in stride.

  “How about Nike, the Goddess of Victory?” Brit suggested, and Alex pierced her with those eyes
yet again as her gaze shifted. And then they turned light again, and Brit could imagine laughter in Alex’s mind.

  “I thought Nike made basketball sneakers,” she retorted.

  They stared at each other for a moment, until Sal broke the silence. Brit felt grateful.

  “Speaking of basketball, when does your season start, Alex?”

  Alex nodded. “Thank you for changing that subject, Coach. I owe you,” she said, and she shared her schedule with them.

  “This must be so exciting for you,” Brit added. Although she had no experience coaching, basketball was one of her great passions. Since first dribbling a basketball at the age of five, she’d never stopped. She’d played at every level and held more records than she could count. Yet she was twenty-two now, out of college, and with the exception of the recreational leagues, she wouldn’t have much opportunity to play. If she wasn’t ready to toss the sneakers in the can and grow up, coaching would be the next logical step in her basketball career. She loved the game and envied Alex that she was still so much a part of it.

  “Yeah, it is.”

  “You’re starting your career at such a young age. You have a chance to win a thousand games, just like Pat Summit.” Brit’s tone was teasing, yet Alex took it to heart.

  “I’ll be very pleased if I finish with a winning season.” Alex appreciated Brit’s enthusiasm, but in fact, she was quite concerned about winning. There had been tremendous pressure from one school board member to hire a more experienced coach, one who happened to be his relative. It was only with Sal’s strong recommendation to her friends on the board that Alex would find a whistle around her neck in the fall.

  Pushing her fear aside, Alex gave them the details about her upcoming basketball season. She’d been hired a few months earlier, after the previous coach had retired. Alex had been the assistant for two years, and she knew the players, and the system, so the transition was predicted to be manageable, but she was nervous, anyway. Suddenly, it all fell on her shoulders—the responsibility to get a dozen teenage girls on the right bus, and to the right gym, and make sure their algebra homework was completed and their grades stayed in the comfort zone. They needed to learn plays and execute them and score and play defense, and win. Sportsmanship was important and grades were important, but in the end, if her team didn’t win, she’d be tanked. Her athletic director had already told her as much.