by Anne Eton
The girl glanced up from her documents, slightly startled. “Yes. Do you want me to leave?”
“Of course not. I just didn’t know if you wanted to leave.”
Laurence shook her head.
“Okay, then.”
On this afternoon, Laurence kept her clothes on. Sitting in their chairs with their drinks, she and Peggy made strained conversation. Finally, they stopped talking. The silence filled the air.
“I wish to apologize for last night,” the French girl said finally. She stared at her drink.
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry,” Peggy said in a rush. “I can’t believe I brought him up like that. My dad, he always said that I couldn’t see my foot without wanting to shove it into my mouth.”
The girl shook her head, a slow, mournful pan back and forth. “I was so rude. After everything you have done for me, it is… unforgivable.”
“Don’t say that.”
“It is the truth.”
“I think you’re being a little hard on yourself. You’ve suffered a really major shock. Personally, I’m amazed you’ve done as well as you have.” Peggy looked down at her own drink. “Which makes me feel even more guilty.”
Laurence looked up, her eyebrows knitted in puzzlement. “Guilty?”
“You are in this very vulnerable place, and… I should not have taken advantage.”
The girl set her drink down on the table. “Taken advantage?”
“Yes.”
“This is a bit condescending, no?”
“What?”
Laurence closed her eyes. She breathed in, then out. “I cannot say this any other way. I wanted to kiss you. I have wanted to kiss you before all this… thing. Before my father died.”
Peggy stared. “Since we’re baring our souls, let me ask: are you gay?”
The girl shook her head.
“Okay. Me neither. Do you like… do you like to fool around with girls?”
Unexpectedly, Laurence laughed. She laughed long and hard, releasing tension. Finally: “I do not know. I have never tried it. And you?”
“Same here.” Peggy paused. She looked at the girl. “So what are we doing?”
The blonde shrugged. “I like you. And I think maybe you like me.”
“Well, yeah. But…”
“You have heard of the sexuality continuum?”
“What’s that?”
“It says that men and women do not have their sexuality as a binary thing, gay or straight, either this or that. It is on a spectrum. Many different possibilities. And people, their place on the spectrum can move.”
“Doesn’t that make sexuality… sort of uncertain? Like, a person could jump into bed with anybody, at any time? I don’t buy that.”
“No, I don’t either. But still.” Laurence gave Peggy a shrewd grin. “And I have always thought that women are more flexible than men.”
After a long pause, Peggy said: “I can’t believe we’re talking about this. After last night. I didn’t get much sleep, by the way.” A thought occurred to her. “Did you?”
“Yes, I slept well.”
“It must be great to be French.”
Laurence shrugged again. “I do not see so much of a problem with us.”
“But if we… and especially if you are about to be…”
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“Married?”
Peggy did not speak.
Laurence sighed. “Yes.”
“Don’t you think that is sort of a problem?”
“He and I agreed before. Well, no, he said, and I agreed.”
“Agreed about what?”
“Until the day we are married, we may do whatever we like with whoever we like.”
Peggy stared. “O-kay.”
“His decision. And I know, I know,” she said with sudden vehemence, “he is FUCKING so many girls. Probably right now, this minute. He’s doing it while he can, before the wedding, while I am gone.”
“Seems to me he couldn’t find a girl hotter than you.”
Laurence smiled. She looked away.
“Seriously.”
“When I protested this decision, he told me, ‘You are the one who is leaving. If you want to marry me today, marry me today.’”
The older woman frowned. “I don’t understand…”
“He wanted to be married immediately. From almost the first date. He is older, you see. He wants children. He has none. He said I am selfish for wanting to wait.”
“When did you meet him?”
She considered. “Four months ago.”
“And that’s too long to wait?”
The girl closed her eyes, shook her head and made an exasperated sound. “I decided I would take three months and travel to California. I had wanted always to go. Movies, beaches. I had this idea. You know? And after we are married, probably I will have no chance, with children and that life. He fought me so hard. He told me I only wanted to come to California so I could fuck surfers.”
Peggy stared.
“So finally,” Laurence continued, “he said, ‘You may do what you like, and I will do what I like.’”
“And… have you fucked many surfers?”
Laurence looked at her.
“Kidding. Jeez,” Peggy said.
“When I received the email about my father dying, I called him first. Do you know what he said?”
Peggy waited.
“He said, ‘What do you want me to do about it?’”
The older woman massaged her temples.
“Then I called you,” Laurence concluded.
“Can I ask you an honest question? And I mean this seriously. Honestly.”
“Of course.”
“Why are you marrying this guy?”
The girl looked down. “He is strong. And he is successful. He is not sensitive, it is true, but he has had a hard life and has made much out of nothing.” She sighed. “And I love him. Not crazy, I-miss-you-all-the-time love, but something I have never felt for another man.”
Peggy said nothing.
At length, Laurence added: “I am ready to talk about the funeral now.”
“Just get it all”—Peggy made a vomiting motion—”out at the same time, huh?”
“Yes.” Laurence turned to the table. She gulped down both her margaritas in succession. When finished, she asked: “Can we walk on the beach?”
“Sure, if you can stand up,” Peggy joked.
They strolled along the water’s edge. As usual, they had the beach to themselves. Laurence spoke of the funeral. Only a few people had attended—her stepmother, a few of her father’s business acquaintances, her aunt, and herself.
“There was complete indifference,” Laurence said. “In that room. With the casket there. And it was cheap, his wife had chosen the cheapest thing. I was the only one who cried. The only one!”
“I’m so sorry,” Peggy said. She offered her hand. Laurence gripped it tightly.
“And I thought…” Laurence paused, closed her eyes, and took deep breaths as they walked.
Peggy looked ahead, making sure the girl would not stumble. “Take your time.”
“I thought that if it was me, in that casket, no one would have cried at all. Not my father, no one.”
“Aw, no. That’s…”
“Not true? It is true. My father never gave me any kindness. For so long I wondered what I had done. Then I realized he was like that with everybody. And my mother cares only for her social circle. She sent me to boarding school when I was in kindergarten. Kindergarten! When I was small she and my father divorced, she did not even bother to tell me. When I found out, I telephoned him. He said, ‘Your mother is a bitch.’ He said that to his little child!”
“God, honey…”
“I have no brothers or sisters,” Laurence continued, staring forward as the words poured out of her faster and faster. “I was away at schools so long that I do not really know anyone in my family. And they do not know me.
I called my aunt in Toulouse, my father’s sister, to give me a ride to the funeral. She had not planned to go. She despised him. Then at the funeral my stepmother spoke to me once. She said only that my father’s will gave everything to her. I tried to ask her some things, and she turned away. I had nowhere to stay after the funeral and my aunt said there was no room at her house. So I went to a hotel. Do you understand now why I wanted to come back?”
“And… Philippe?”
A bitter tone crept into the girl’s voice. “I called him the moment I arrived, before I went through passport control. He said he was busy with business but maybe if I stayed a week, he could see me. Like maybe he could fit it on his schedule.”
“I’m sorry,” Peggy repeated for lack of anything else to say. They had reached the far breakwater. Still holding hands, Peggy gently turned Laurence around. They began walking back in the direction they had started.
The girl continued, heedless: “And I was thinking, all the time, ‘I wish I had not come. I wish Peggy had not wasted her money.’”
“I’m sorry, too. Not for the money, I don’t care about that, but I feel terrible that I arranged it. For you to get hurt.”
“You could not have known.” Laurence looked out at the sea. “I did not know. No, that is not true. I did know. But I did not wish to accept the reality. The coldness, the indifference.”
They walked the rest of the way back in silence, hand in hand.
Finally they stopped by the water in front of Peggy’s house. Laurence stared at the horizon. The sun was failing. A pink hue had filled the sky.
Peggy studied Laurence carefully. “Is there anything I can do?”
“You have done so much,” she whispered.
“I don’t see how.”
“Here, with you, I laugh. Nowhere else.”
“Wow.”
“Yes.”
A long pause.
“Anything else? That I can do, I mean.”
After a moment, Laurence gave her a long sideways smirk.
Peggy rolled her eyes. “Come on,” she said, tugging. They walked back up across the beach to the patio.
By the pool, Laurence pulled off her shirt and removed her jeans. She smiled at Peggy. “This always makes me happy.”
“This and swimming.” Peggy folded a towel.
Wearing only her panties, Laurence flipped her body with a graceful movement to land stomach-down on a flat lounge chair. Peggy set her towel down, knelt upon it, and touched the girl’s shoulders.
Laurence turned her head toward Peggy and clasped the nearer of Peggy’s hands. She rubbed Peggy’s knuckles gently, staring at the fingers.
“You’ll only get half a rub,” Peggy joked.
Laurence appeared not to have heard.
Peggy’s free hand slowly worked its way down the girl’s back. Laurence sighed, a sound of pleasure. She kissed Peggy’s captive hand.
The brunette’s other hand kneaded the girl’s hips, one by one.
“Touch me there,” Laurence said softly.
“Where?”
Laurence parted her legs, still staring at Peggy’s fingers.
The older woman hesitated. Slowly, she slid her free hand up and over the contour of Laurence’s round butt. After a pause, the palm continued its journey, ever so lightly, down between her legs.
“Inside,” Laurence whispered.
Peggy’s finger touched the border of the white panties, running up and down along the hem. The girl giggled and bucked. “Tickles. Go inside.”
Peggy slipped her hand inside Laurence’s underwear, cupping her butt. The blonde sighed. Her eyes closed. Peggy kneaded the firm cheeks for a long time.
“Touch me there,” Laurence repeated.
Peggy tried to control her breathing. The masseuse’s fingers slid in a slow journey under Laurence’s panties down the fissure between her legs, until they touched moist hair. The girl moved her hips up slightly, encouraging her. Peggy slid her hand lower still, then began rubbing the girl’s warm vagina.
Laurence started kissing Peggy’s other hand, giving each finger a long touch of her lips.
Peggy massaged the girl’s Mons Venus. Time passed. The sky grew dark.
Finally, she said: “I have to sit up.”
Laurence nodded and exhaled. Peggy had been slightly bent over, with little support from her arms, for a long time. She raised her hands and put them on her hips, wincing as she lifted her shoulders.
Laurence turned onto her side, watching.
After Peggy had performed a series of yoga stretches, she smiled. “Hi.”
“Hi.” The girl smiled back. Her eyes were warm.
“How are you?”
“I am wonderful. But I must say… rather, I must tell you something.”
The words made Peggy visibly anxious. “Okay.”
“It is very difficult for me to achieve orgasm,” Laurence said simply.
“Oh.”
“It has always been so. I do not want you to feel…” The girl’s voice trailed off.
“Like I’m not doing something right?”
“Yes, exactly.”
“Okay. I wasn’t exactly trying, just now. Incidentally.”
“Good.”
“I was just enjoying the moment.”
“Good,” Laurence repeated.
“Doesn’t it feel weird to you, for us to be talking about this?”
“No.”
“The French.” Peggy sighed, wincing again as she turned her torso.
Laurence sat up, setting her bare feet on the tiles. “You are stiff?”
“Yeah, I kind of held that position for way too long. My fault.”
The girl rose to her feet. “You should move. Come. Stand. Let me help.”
Laurence helped her to her feet. With her arm around Peggy’s shoulders, she led the brunette around a circuit of the pool before guiding her down the steps to the beach once again.
Peggy flexed her spine. “I’m fine now.”
Laurence removed her arm, sliding it down Peggy’s back. Her fingertips touched the bikini bottoms, tracing the border where the fabric cupped Peggy’s cheek.
They walked slowly toward the dark water. “I was attracted to you the first day,” Peggy said.
Laurence studied her, pleased. “Really?”
“Yeah. At first I thought it was just a girl crush, or something. Perfectly understandable. You are beautiful—”
“Stop.” Laurence looked away, smiling. Her hand shifted from tracing the line on Peggy’s butt cheek to cupping and rubbing, gently.
“That’s just obvious.” Peggy placed her own hand on the blonde’s rump, running her fingernails with a light touch up and down thin white cotton fabric. “And it was just kind of fun. But then when I thought you were sort of reciprocating, you know, going topless and all that, it kind of short-circuited my brain. I didn’t know what to do.”
“I became attracted to you also. I felt your interest. I liked it.” The women moved closer to each other, hips touching as they looked out at the night sea.
“This is the strangest story,” Peggy said finally. She slipped her hand into Laurence’s panties, rubbing the girl’s ass. “I don’t think anyone would buy it.”
The blonde laughed and pushed her own hand into Peggy’s swimwear. It was a much tighter fit, since the custom-made bikini bottoms fit Peggy’s curves perfectly. Laurence grimaced. “This does not work,” she said.
“Sorry.” They looked at each other and smiled, a long lingering glance. Then a particularly loud wave caught the blonde’s attention. She pulled away.
Stepping forward a few paces, the girl dipped her toes into a rush of eddying water. She turned back to Peggy, excited.
“Swim with me. Swim with me!”
Peggy bit her lip. She looked at the ocean. It roared from the blackness beyond the first few feet of surf she could discern. Glancing up, she said: “There’s not even any moonlight.”
“We will be fine. The
currents are not strong. I have swum many times. Yes?” Even in the dark, Peggy could see the French girl’s eyes shining. A kind of feral happiness had taken hold, the night sea’s effect on her. Laurence’s eagerness and impatience seemed to fill the deserted beach.
“We will go only as far as the raft,” she continued, seizing Peggy’s hand. “The raft is maybe five minutes. No more. Peggy! This moment, take it. With me. Life”—she gestured at the blackness in front of them—”is there. Not here.”
“I can’t. Laurence… I… I can’t.” Peggy seemed ready to cry. She looked down, afraid.
“Peggy, share this with me.” The French girl touched her face.
The older woman looked up. Laurence kissed her once, then again. They stared at each other. Then they embraced, kissing for the first time.
Finally, Laurence pulled away. “This is the moment,” she whispered. She pushed her panties to the sand, and stood naked.
Peggy stared. After a long pause, the brunette reached behind her back and unclipped her bikini top. She slid the straps off her arms and let it fall. Locking eyes with Laurence, she slipped her swimsuit’s bottom down and off.
Laurence smiled. She held out her hand. Peggy took it. They turned and began walking into the dark water.
It suddenly was knee-deep. A large wave loomed before them, advancing like a moving wall.
“Dive!” Laurence cried. Peggy followed her lead, diving headfirst with her into the yawning curl. The sea churned them. Peggy lost her grip on the girl’s hand. She rose to the surface; her toes could still touch the bottom. She looked around wildly. “Laurence!”
“Over here.” Peggy saw a dim form ahead, waving to her. “Quickly. We must go past these waves. After a few meters, no more waves. Come!”
Peggy hesitated. The ocean moved her body, pulling her back to the shore. Another swell ahead lifted Laurence up and then down. It kept advancing toward Peggy, rising higher. Peggy took a deep breath and extended her arms. She dived into it, kicking hard.
After a few seconds of desperate swimming, she actually collided with Laurence.
Peggy righted her body, treading. She spit water. “Sorry,” she gasped.
The French girl laughed. She kissed Peggy with great joy. “Let’s go!”
They swam side-by-side, holding hands. After more high swells, the water became calm. “You see?” Laurence asked.