by Aurora Rey
It felt good to be in the kitchen of her childhood. Mama filled her in on all of the local goings on and gossip. Lia worked to put faces with names as she learned of marriages and births and deaths and divorces. After a while, Louise paused, wooden spoon in hand. “And how are you, honey? How are you holding up?”
“I’m good. The breakup was hard, but the longer I’m out of it, the more I realize it was overdue. You know what I mean?”
“I do. And I want you to know that I’m proud of you. It took courage to walk away from that life, a life that was familiar and comfortable.”
She’d focused so much on feeling like a failure, the words really hit home. “Thanks, Mama. That means a lot to me.”
“Well, I mean it. Are you seeing anyone now?”
Lia blushed. “Sort of.”
Louise looked over the rim of her reading glasses. “What kind of answer is that?”
“Well…” Lia suddenly felt sixteen again. If she wasn’t so mortified, she might be able to laugh at herself. “I’ve been spending time with someone I met in Provincetown. She owns the café where I go most days to work.”
It was an honest answer, Lia assured herself, even if it left out the detail of all the amazing sex. Her mother narrowed her eyes. “Works there or just owns it?”
“It’s a bakery and a café and she does all of the baking herself. She’s a pastry chef.” That was a strange question. Lia wondered why she wanted to know.
“That’s good. She sounds grounded. What’s her name?”
Lia swallowed. She wished she didn’t get so tense when talking with her family about her personal life. She wondered if it would be different if she was straight, talking with Mama about men. Probably. “Alex. And yes, grounded is a good way to describe her. She works hard, but still manages to have fun.”
“That sounds like exactly what you need.” Louise winked as she said it, taking Lia by surprise. Before she could say anything else, her dad and brothers came in, congratulating themselves on building their tallest bonfire to date. She took the opportunity to excuse herself to freshen up before supper.
The next evening, people started arriving at the house by five o’clock. There was gumbo and potato salad, cheese dips and homemade boudin, a whole table of sweets and another filled with soda and liquor and wine. Coolers were stacked on the floor and held bags of ice and cases of beer. She’d forgotten how seriously Cajuns took their parties.
She kissed great uncles and let them tell her how pretty she was. She admired the growth spurts of her younger cousins, nieces, and nephews. She was also introduced to the two newest members of the family, a niece named Ella and a second cousin named Noah. She was teased about becoming a Yankee, but it was generally good natured. She assured them all that she still said y’all and rooted for LSU football. For the most part, it seemed like a satisfactory response.
A little before seven, they flowed across the street and up the levee. Her dad held a lighter to the kerosene-soaked newspaper stuffed in strategic places that would get the fire going. A cheer went up and, in a matter of minutes, the towering structure ignited. Everyone moved back to accommodate the radiating heat. Lia leaned back and watched the line of fires coming to life as far as the eye could see. She saw a bottle rocket go up here and there, looked over at the dark, slow moving water of the Mississippi River. It was Christmas, and she was home.
About an hour later, Lia found herself in a circle with her three brothers. She realized, suddenly, that it was an arrangement that had been orchestrated. Not knowing what they were thinking, she employed her usual strategy of asking them questions about themselves.
Mike raised a finger. “We’re on to you, peanut. We want to hear about you.”
Peanut was the name Lia’s parents had used with her brothers to refer to their new brother or sister before she was born. It was a nickname that stuck. It made Lia smile to hear it now. “What do you want to know?”
Joe looked incredulous. “Uh, everything. You left Dani, moved, apparently are dating someone, and we haven’t seen you in almost a year.”
“Right.” They weren’t a subtle bunch. “I’m good. Really. Breaking up with Dani was hard, but it was the right thing to do. Getting out of the city was the right thing to do, too. I’m working and making friends. I’m happy.”
Mike interjected. “Is it true you have a new girlfriend?”
Lia hesitated. The one time Dani had come home with her, meeting her brothers had not gone well, on either side of the equation. She did not relish the thought of an inquisition, or of their judgment.
“Just dating. Nothing serious. Nothing worth mentioning.” Even if it didn’t feel like that the last couple of weeks, that was still her official story, and she was sticking to it.
Jaime didn’t look convinced. “Why are you holding out on us?”
“I’m not holding out. I’m just…” What was she?
“Being squirrelly.” Joe folded his arms across his chest.
“Not squirrelly. It’s Christmas. I don’t want to make things weird by talking about my personal life.”
Jaime jumped back in. “You know, Lia, we have no problem with the fact that you’re gay.”
Lia nodded. It wasn’t the first time her brothers had said as much. Yet, ever since she’d gone away to college and been in actual relationships with women, there was a lingering awkwardness that prevented her from believing it entirely. She looked from Jaime, who’d spoken, to Mike then Joe. They were all staring at her. She forced a smile. “I know.”
Jaime scowled. “I don’t think you do. None of us liked Dani. We all thought she was stuck up and not nearly good enough for you. That has nothing to do with you being into women.”
“I…I had no idea.” She struggled to process what he was saying, trying unsuccessfully to reconcile it with Dani’s assertions that her family, although nice on the surface, was homophobic. It had been so easy to attribute the tension, and avoidance, to the fact that they were fundamentally uncomfortable with her, and the fact that she was a lesbian.
Joe uncrossed his arms and lifted them defensively. “We wanted to be supportive, but it was hard when the person you were with made it seem like she couldn’t stand to be around us. And when you stopped coming down, it kind of felt like you were picking her over us.”
If there’d been a chair anywhere nearby, Lia would have sat down. It never occurred to her that her family was not uncomfortable with her sexuality, but with her specific choice of partner. That they’d seen Dani for what she was so long ago was painfully ironic. Lia was suddenly overcome with the feeling that she’d wasted so much time, done more damage than she’d ever considered. She looked down at her plastic cup of Crown Royal and Diet Coke for a long minute. “I’m so sorry.”
She looked up and locked eyes with Jaime. He was the one who had carried her home from the playground when she’d fallen from the monkey bars and sprained her ankle. He’d been proud that she got into a fancy college up north. The idea that she’d pushed him away, let him down, made her feel terribly small. She’d been such a fool.
“Oh, peanut, don’t cry.”
The next thing Lia knew, she was completely enveloped in a hug. All three of her brothers, and all six arms, surrounded her with so much love and so much warmth that she couldn’t believe she’d gone without it for so long. “I love y’all so much.”
Mike poked her in the ribs. “We love you, too, peanut. We’re glad you’re home.”
*
The next morning, Lia went with her parents to Mass, then returned home to make Christmas dinner. Her brothers came over mid afternoon with their families. Over ham and praline sweet potatoes, she learned everything that Santa had brought, from boring socks to the coolest bikes ever. After the meal, her oldest niece, Abby, offered to read one of her new books. Lia learned all about why pigeons should not drive buses, no matter how desperately they might want to.
Late that afternoon, she texted Alex and almost immediately got a “Me
rry Christmas, Southern belle” in return. She didn’t hear from Dani at all, nor did she send a greeting of her own. She found herself wanting to tell Alex all about the conversation with her brothers, as well as the one she had with her parents. It was like a huge weight had been lifted, and Alex was the person she wanted to share it with.
She decided to wait until they were together again. Although she was no longer anxious to leave Louisiana or her family, she did find herself ready to be back. Whether it was her apartment or her friends or Alex, she was starting to think of Provincetown as home.
When she landed in Boston two days later, Alex was waiting just on the other side of the security screening area. She had parked and come in and it made Lia feel special. It was silly perhaps, but one of those things Dani never did.
During the three-hour drive from Boston to Provincetown, Lia related the events of her trip. Alex gave her thigh a reassuring squeeze when Lia teared up about how much misunderstanding there was and how, had she not left Dani, she might have spent the rest of her life distant and detached from her family. Alex told her about her Christmas, the continued excitement and planning for the baby, her dad’s girlfriend in Charleston.
As they drove, Alex found herself stealing glances at Lia. She tried not to focus on how much she’d missed her, or thought about her during their time apart. It was easy to distract herself with thoughts of having Lia naked and under her, skin flushed and hips arching to meet her.
When they finally arrived back in town, Alex offered to take Lia home, although it was the last thing she wanted. In response, Lia ran her hand up the inside of Alex’s thigh, pressing her thumb against the seam of Alex’s jeans and making her more turned on than she already was. “I was hoping to stay at your place, if you don’t have any other plans.”
They were hardly up the stairs before they began tearing at one another’s clothes. With Murphy at Jeff’s until the next morning, there was nothing to do but make their way to bed.
Chapter Twenty-two
“Are you ready for our hot night on the town?” Lia wiggled her hips in a way that made the sequins on her dress shimmer in the light of Alex’s kitchen. It was New Year’s Eve and she was ready to party.
“As ready as I’m going to be. I can’t remember the last time I was out after midnight.”
“I somehow find that incredibly hard to believe.”
Alex gave an exaggerated shrug. “I’m a baker.”
“Mmm hmm. Well, I promise I won’t keep you out too late.”
“You can keep me out as late as you want, just promise to come home with me in the end.” Alex sent her a smoldering look that made her insides flutter.
“Deal.”
It wasn’t snowing, so they braved the short walk to the Crown & Anchor. She felt silly wearing boots with her cocktail dress, but Alex was adamant. “I refuse to have you break your leg, or worse. Carry your shoes and I promise you can check your boots in the coat room.”
They had dinner with Jan and her wife, Lorraine, before heading over to Paramount for the dance party. The crowd was definitely a mix—young and old, men and women, gay and straight. Everyone was dressed to the nines and the mood was festive.
The DJ created a perfect mix of fast and slow dance music, old and new. Although most of her time was spent with Alex, she had one dance with Jan and another with Josie, the doctor from her poker group. She was sweaty and her feet hurt and she couldn’t remember the last time she’d had so much fun. Even dressed up, there was something that felt more casual, more laid-back, than most of the parties she’d attended with Dani. She kicked off her shoes at one point in the evening and she hadn’t sucked in her stomach once.
As midnight approached, she and Alex made their way to the bar for requisite glasses of champagne. Flutes in hand, they stood in the middle of the dance floor and counted down the seconds until the new year began. When the hour turned, a cheer rose from the crowd and confetti fell from somewhere in the ceiling.
Alex wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. The kiss was hot, and it lingered. When Alex eased back, Lia’s vision was blurred and her legs wobbly. She wondered if there would be a time that Alex didn’t have that much of an effect on her.
The next thing she knew, Lia found herself turned around and pulled into a friendly kiss with Jeff. Jeff led to Josie, then to Jan and Lorraine. The crowd was friendly and exuberant. More than once, Lia received a peck on the cheek from someone she didn’t even know. Eventually, she wound her way back to where she’d left Alex. She wasn’t there, so Lia began to look around the room. What she discovered was Alex standing about fifty feet away in the arms of a redhead wearing a barely-there black dress.
Lia tried to move, but she was frozen. She swallowed and willed herself to, at the very least, tear her eyes away from what she was seeing, but it was no use. The woman’s arms were around Alex’s neck and she had the entire length of her body pressed against Alex. Alex ran her hands along the woman’s tanned and perfectly toned arms. Lia stood there for what felt like an eternity, watching the two of them kiss.
Someone brushed past and it was enough to snap her back to her senses. She turned around and weaved her way through the crowd to the restrooms in the corner. Although tempted to lock herself in a stall, she was afraid that doing so would release the tears that were burning her eyes and threatening to escape. Then her makeup would be ruined and the whole thing would go from awkward and unpleasant to humiliating. Instead, she ran cold water over her hands and wrists and willed herself to calm down.
She stood for a long time with her hands under the tap. The freezing water shocked her system and pulled some of the heat from her cheeks. It was fine. Seeing Alex kiss another woman was nothing like walking in on Dani and her assistant. For starters, both Alex and the woman wrapped around her were clothed. There was also the fact that she and Alex weren’t together. They were barely dating. By Lia’s own definition, it was only a fling.
The reasoning with herself worked, at least enough to keep her from bursting into tears. Feeling as though she had regained control of herself, she shut off the water. As she was drying her hands, a woman in a dapper, gunmetal gray suit walked in. She had rich brown skin and her hair was almost a buzz cut. Lia had a sudden impulse to push the woman against the wall, kiss her.
She smiled at Lia. “Great party, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely.” Lia was neither brave enough nor drunk enough to act on it. She tossed the paper towel in the trash.
“Don’t go too crazy out there.” The woman winked at her and disappeared into one of the stalls.
Relief, tinged with self-loathing, washed over her. Lia rolled her eyes heavenward. “I’m not the one I’m worried about.”
Lia exited the bathroom. Looking around the room surreptitiously, she saw Jan and no sign of Alex. She made her way over to her.
“Hi, gorgeous. Are you having a good time?”
Lia mustered a weak smile. “Yes, but I’m not feeling well all of a sudden. Could you tell Alex I’m heading home?”
Jan looked at her with concern. “Oh, no. Sit for a minute and I’ll go find her. I’m sure she’ll want to take you.”
Lia waved her off. “No, we walked over. I already called a cab.” She hadn’t, but it sounded good. “Tell her to stay and enjoy the party. I’m sure she won’t have trouble finding other company.”
The last bit was too much. Jan’s eyes narrowed, her concern morphing into suspicion. “Honey, what’s going on? What’s wrong?”
“I really don’t feel well.” It’s not like that was a lie. “I want to go home and I don’t want to make a big production of it. Please just tell her?”
She must have pleaded just the right way. Jan shook her head slightly and sighed. “Of course. Will you let me take you home? I’m sure Lorraine is just about ready to leave anyway.”
“I’m fine, really. Thank you. I owe you one.”
Lia squeezed Jan’s arm and hurried over to the coat check, hopi
ng not to be seen. She collected her things and hurried out without bothering to pull on her boots. When she was a block away from the bar, she looked behind her. Alex was nowhere to be seen. She breathed a sigh of relief.
The sidewalk was slippery and her feet were already freezing, but she walked on, replaying the events of the night and trying to situate them in the context of the last month and a half. Under normal circumstances, Alex wasn’t the kind of woman she’d get involved with. Of course, what the hell were normal circumstances? And since she’d spent so many years with one person, how could she even know what kind of woman she would get involved with? That was the problem. Everything she thought she knew about relationships was utterly screwed up.
She stepped off the curb and hit an icy patch. She flailed her arms, but there was nothing to grab. Her feet came out from under her and she landed in a heap on the slushy street. The shock of falling gave way to a stinging in her hands and right ass cheek where she’d hit the pavement. Swearing under her breath, she scrambled to her feet, mortified that someone might have seen her go down. Relief that she didn’t seem to be hurt was replaced with dismay. Her dress was torn and her stockings were shredded. The veneer of calm was gone. Hot tears started spilling down her cheeks.
By the time Lia got home, her feet were frozen, her makeup was a mess, and she was angry. Really angry. It bubbled up, hot and fierce. Given her inclination to avoid conflict, it wasn’t something she was used to. Where hurt was her typical M.O., indignation took center stage. She wanted to yell and throw things. It was powerful, and oddly energizing. She wanted to ride it, to see where it might take her.
She was pacing around the kitchen when there was a knock at the door. She stalked over and yanked it open. Of course, Alex was standing on the other side.
“Jan said you weren’t feeling well. Why didn’t you tell me? I would have brought you home.”
There was a moment in which Lia considered sticking with the story. She could smile sheepishly and say she didn’t mean to make Alex worry. She could send Alex away, crawl into bed, and try not to think about how wretched she felt. It passed quickly. She had no desire to let Alex off the hook.