Arms Wide Open

by Donna Jay

  ‘I’m forty-three, single, work crazy hours, have no time for a relationship, but can always find time for a night of mutual pleasure. You two sound like fun, if you want to know more, shoot me a message.’

  She clicked on the username and read her stats. Daphne, forty-three, five-foot-eight, 75kg, occasional drinker, non-smoker.

  “She sounds okay. Did you send a reply?”

  “No, not without talking to you first, and, please, don’t act too excited,” Julie said in a teasing tone.

  It wasn’t that she wasn’t excited, but the entire conversation felt surreal. Unreal. If someone had told her twenty years ago they’d be sitting side by side discussing a possible hook-up, she would’ve laughed at them.

  “This is crazy.”

  “Have you changed your mind?” Concern swam in the depths of Julie’s eyes. “It’s okay if you have.”

  “No, it’s not that. It just doesn’t feel real. I’m sure it will, once a meeting has been set up.”

  “Does that mean you’d like to meet her?”

  “Should we ask for a picture first?” Yvonne wasn’t a shallow person, but attraction was important to her.

  “As long as you realise she’ll probably ask for one of us in return.”

  “Good point. What pic should we send if she does?”

  Julie scrolled through her pictures on her phone. She held the screen in front of Yvonne. “How about this one?”

  Mortified, she snatched the phone out of her hand. “I can’t believe you took this.”

  The left side of Yvonne’s face was swollen, and she looked miserable. She had been. Her jaw throbbed at the memory.

  Her wisdom tooth had been impacted and had to be surgically removed. It was the only time she could recall having anaesthetic, and it knocked her around for days.

  “You look cute.”

  “Right, sure, send that one. We’ll have babes lining up at the door.” She rolled her eyes.

  Smiling, Julie grabbed her phone back. She scrolled through before stopping on another image. “How about this?”

  A pang of nostalgia hit Yvonne straight in the solar plexus. It was taken on their first wedding anniversary. It was also their first visit to Stonehenge Aotearoa. A tourist had offered to take a picture of them.

  Giddy on love and the spring air, they posed in the middle of the stone circle. They were both smiling, heads leaned together. Black hair blending with auburn. The Tararua ranges on the western horizon created a picturesque background.

  “We look good, but I’ve filled out since then.” Yvonne patted her belly. She didn’t want to mislead anyone. She was no slim-Jim.

  “My hair was a little longer back then, too.” Julie pulled at her short black hair as if to make her point. “So what? It’s still us, and we’re not auditioning for a beauty pageant.”

  That was true. “Go on then, upload it. But don’t send it first.” A horrifying thought slammed into her. “Shit. What if it’s someone we know?”

  How embarrassing would that be? This woman, Daphne, or whatever her name was, could be someone either of them knew through work. “You know half of the lower North Island.”

  “You truly are…how did Brenda put it?” Julie snapped her fingers. “Adorable.”

  “Whatever.” Yvonne smacked Julie’s finger away, hating that she wasn’t being taken seriously.

  “Firstly, I don’t know half of the north island, most meters are outside, and the majority of homeowners are at work. Secondly, so what if it’s someone we know? Could be interesting. How many women do you know who are gay and looking to hook up with a couple of lesbos?”

  “Um?” Yvonne did the math. “Zero. But still, it could happen.”

  “It could. So let me play devil’s advocate. If we receive a photo from someone we know, what are you going to do?”

  Good question. She certainly wouldn’t say, hey, hi, it’s us. “I would probably send a polite reply and say something like she’s not our type.”

  “But would you tell anyone?”

  “God no!”

  “Why?” Julie tilted her head.

  “Because it’s no one else’s business.” The penny dropped.

  “Cha-ching,” Julie said as if she heard it. “If we do know them, they are just as unlikely to say anything as we are. And honestly, if they do, I’m too old to care.”

  That was just like Julie, carefree and easy-going.

  “Send a reply, ask for a picture. If we like what we see, we’ll go from there.”

  They received a reply from Daphne not long after, and as predicted she asked for a picture in return. Julie sent one back and a date was made.

  A date! The thought made her stomach flip. She hadn’t been on a date since she met Julie way back in the late 90s.

  Around ten that night, Yvonne climbed into bed, tired but wired. The next few days were going to drag and fly by at the same time.

  “What time did she say?” Julie asked.

  “Saturday at two. Blueberry Cafe.”

  Pulling back the blankets, Julie slid into bed wearing nothing but a sexy smile. Yvonne snuggled closer, absorbing her heat.

  “I’m nervous,” she admitted when her mind wouldn’t shut off.

  “And excited?” Julie asked, stroking her hair.

  “Yeah.” She had to admit she was.

  Chapter 17

  Shortly before two o’clock on Saturday afternoon, Yvonne pulled into a parallel park outside Blueberry Cafe. “Do you think she’s already here?”

  “Maybe.” Julie looked around. “Or that could be her over there?” She pointed to a woman sitting in a car.

  “Could be. Hard to tell with the sun on the window.” She squinted against the glare.

  “Let’s get out, see if she follows.”

  “Good idea,” Yvonne said, but her legs refused to move.

  Already out of the car, Julie yanked open the driver’s door. “You okay?”

  “Nervous.” She rubbed her palms on her jeans.

  “Think of it as a coffee date, no expectations.” Julie reached over and undid Yvonne’s seatbelt. “What’s our word?”

  Before they left home, they’d talked about a codeword if they needed to make a quick exit. “Ginger.”

  “Correct.” Julie grabbed her hand and some of the tension lifted from Yvonne’s shoulders. Once she got her legs to work, she climbed out and locked the car.

  Just as they were about to step into the café, Yvonne heard someone call out Veronica.

  Thinking nothing of it, she pulled open the heavy, glass door. The aroma of coffee teased her senses. She breathed deeply, like an ex-smoker getting their hit. She’d already had her one coffee for the day, so it was tea for her.

  A tug on her arm brought her up short.

  “Shouldn’t we wait for her?” Julie frowned.

  “Wait for who?” Yvonne adjusted the strap on her handbag.

  “You, Veronica. Me, Juliet. Remember?”

  “Oh, shit.” She smacked her forehead, feeling like an idiot. No wonder she hated lying, it required having too good of a memory. She looked beyond Yvonne and was met by a tentative gaze.

  “Daphne?” Yvonne asked.

  “Hi.” She waved. “That’s me.”

  Smiling, the woman approached, blonde curls bouncing around her shoulders. She wore white slacks, a mauve top, and strappy sandals.

  Yvonne held out a hand. “Nice to meet you.” She turned to Julie. “This is Julie—” She cleared her throat, “—Juliet.”

  From memory, Daphne’s profile said she was forty-three, or perhaps it was forty-four. Either way, she looked closer to fifty.

  “Ladies.” Julie swept her hand in front of her, ushering them to go first.

  “Thank you,” Daphne said. “Are we going Dutch?”

  Shit, another thing they hadn’t thought of. “No, it’s on us,” Yvonne said, impulsively. If they had to pay for two drinks why not pay for three?

  “What will it be?” Julie asked.<
br />
  “Oh, let me see.” She rubbed her hands together. “I’ll have a large double-mocha cappuccino.”

  Was that a thing?

  Daphne pointed to a scone in the glass cabinet. “One of those, and…” Her finger hovered mid-air as if she couldn’t decide.

  Wow, why don’t you order an entire meal while you’re at it? The penny pincher in Yvonne made her want to retract her offer to pay.

  “No, wait!” Daphne backed up. “Forget the food, coffee will be fine.” She locked her gaze on Yvonne, running a hand over her hip. “I’m watching my weight.”

  Her sultry gaze made Yvonne’s skin prickle. She shifted uncomfortably. Daphne was either trying too hard or extremely forward. Feeling awkward, Yvonne glanced around hoping no one else had seen. She blushed when she noticed a man watching them closely.

  “Chai or peppermint tea, Veronica?”

  “Chai, please,” Yvonne replied, giving herself a mental high-five for remembering her alias.

  After placing their order, they sat at a round table for three near the back of the café. The padded leather seats were chic and comfortable.

  “What do you do for a living?” Julie asked Daphne.

  “I’m a phlebotomist.”

  A snort huffed out of Yvonne. Mortified, she covered her mouth. “Sorry.”

  Although Julie was smiling, Yvonne was sure her response would be more mature. “And what does that involve? Spanking bottoms?”

  Scratch the mature part. Julie’s mind was clearly in her knickers.

  “Nothing that exciting.” Daphne chuckled. “I draw blood.”

  “Oh, do you work at Medlab?” Julie asked.

  “Use to, but now I do house calls.”

  “Oh, Juliet does house calls too,” Yvonne said.

  “Really, and what do you do, Veronica?”

  Silence descended when the waitress stepped up to their table. “Chai tea?”

  “Me, please.” Yvonne held up a hand.

  “Mochaccino?”

  “Here.” Daphne tore open two sugar sticks and dumped them into the steaming brew. Someone had a sweet tooth.

  The thought drew Yvonne’s gaze to said teeth. They were either perfectly straight…or false.

  Stop judging, what’s up with that?

  “A long black?” Julie nodded.

  “Any children?” Julie asked once they were alone again.

  “Yes.” Daphne’s face lit up. “A daughter, she’s thirty. Her two children are the apple of my eye.”

  “Young mother?” Julie echoed Yvonne’s thoughts.

  “Gosh, no, they’re still babies.”

  “I meant you.”

  Boom! If she was only forty-three, that meant she was thirteen when her now thirty-year-old daughter was born.

  “Oh.” Her face fell. “I just put my foot in it, didn’t I?”

  “No biggie,” Julie said casually. “Age is but a number.” Her voice dropped an octave. “But honesty means a lot to us. You tell one lie, and then—” She lifted a shoulder. “Who knows.”

  Looking remorseful, Daphne shook her head. “I’m fifty-two, but I’ve been told I don’t look it.”

  Someone lied.

  “I thought I’d get more interest if I listed my age as younger. I didn’t mean to deceive you.”

  “More interest in what?” Yvonne asked.

  Julie sipped her iced tea, head moving from side to side like she was watching a tennis match.

  “You want to get straight to the point? I can do that. In fact, I’d prefer it.” Her eyes sparkled as if a switch had been flipped. “More interest from potential playmates. That’s why we’re here, isn’t it? To see if sparks fly.” She shot them a dazzling smile. “And clothes come off.”

  Daphne’s hand ghosted across Yvonne’s thigh under the table, sending shockwaves through her body. Was she doing the same to Julie? No, she couldn’t be, her other hand was on the table.

  “Have you had sex with a couple before?” Julie asked.

  When Daphne’s foot connected with hers, Yvonne’s eyes went wide. Daphne was playing footsie with her. Feeling guilty, even though she’d done nothing to encourage her, she pulled her feet back, tucking them under the chair.

  “Nope, but there’s a first time for everything right.” She bit her lip seductively.

  “Very true.” Julie smiled at Yvonne, her eyes full of warmth. “This will be our first time too.” She squeezed Yvonne’s hand. “Excuse me. I need to use the bathroom.”

  Ugh, damn her. If this was her way of telling Yvonne it was her call, Yvonne didn’t like it. She wanted to scream don’t leave me. Instead, she drained the last of her tea to soothe her dry throat.

  Daphne leaned in close, so close Yvonne could smell the coffee on her breath. “You’re incredibly sexy.”

  “Thank you,” she replied automatically. It’d been a long time since anyone other than Julie had said she was sexy and it felt good. Daphne was definitely a looker, but something was off.

  A second later, she reached across the table and ran her fingers through Yvonne’s hair. The touch made her skin prickle and not in a good way.

  Yvonne tilted her head sideways, gently pulling away from the too familiar touch.

  “Let’s say you and I hook up? Would you like that?”

  “What…what do you mean?”

  “Just the two of us. It’ll be our little secret.”

  The suggestion made bile rise up the back of Yvonne’s throat. “Why would I do that?” She had no intention of cheating. Ever.

  “No offence, but I’m not attracted to your wife.”

  Her hackles went up. “And what’s wrong with my wife?”

  “Nothing, if you’re into butch women.”

  “I wouldn’t really call her butch,” Yvonne said defensively.

  “Maybe not, but short hair and flat chests do nothing for me. I prefer femmes. Like you.”

  Her lascivious gaze made Yvonne’s skin crawl like ants were marching across her body.

  “All luscious curves, soft, long hair.” Daphne’s gaze dipped lower. “A fantastic rack.”

  The audacity of the woman left Yvonne speechless. She just stared, mouth open, eyes wide.

  “Sorry about that.”

  The sound of Julie’s voice was like someone waking her from a dream, or in this case, a nightmare. Yvonne shook her head, wondering if she’d imagined the whole thing.

  Oblivious to what just went down, Julie rested her elbows on the table. “Did I miss anything exciting? Any sparks flying?”

  “Definitely,” Daphne replied. “I was just telling your wife how much I’d love to get together with her.”

  No bloody way, not happening. Ever!

  “Ginger!” Yvonne blurted out.

  A deep frown line appeared between Julie’s eyes.

  Code word, code word, code word flashed through Yvonne’s mind like a beacon. She breathed a sigh of relief when the light bulb went on in Julie’s eyes.

  “Crap, did you put him out?”

  “No, did you?”

  “What’s going on.” Daphne looked from one to the other, frowning.

  “Our cat, he’s got social issues,” Julie said. “If we leave him in when we go out, he sprays all over the house, marking his territory.” She plugged her nostrils. “Pooh.”

  Screwing up her face, Daphne recoiled as if she could smell cat pee.

  Yvonne jumped out of her chair as if her pants were on fire. “Sorry, gotta go.”

  “Message me,” Daphne called behind them.

  Fat chance of that. Yvonne fired the car to life and sped for home.

  “Whoa, slow down.” Julie chuckled.

  “It’s not funny, and my cat doesn’t piss everywhere.” She tried to sound angry but failed. She couldn’t be mad with Julie for making her cat sound like a geriatric. It got them out of there, and the look on Daphne’s face was priceless.

  “Wanna tell me what that was all about? You were out of there like shit out of a
seagull.”

  Too wound up, Yvonne didn’t bother commenting about Julie’s crass choice of words. “You left me alone with her!”

  “I needed to pee.”

  “You never need to do that. You’ve got a bladder like a horse.” Something Yvonne envied.

  Unlike Julie who slept like the dead, Yvonne’s bladder woke her at least once if not twice a night.

  “Okay, I wanted to see if you felt comfortable with each other without me.”

  “Really?” Yvonne cocked an eyebrow. “Well, clearly she did. She propositioned me.”

  “How’s that bad? That’s what we were there for, right? She was attractive and could hold a—”

  Frustrated, Yvonne cut her off. “She propositioned me.” She stabbed herself in the chest. “Me. Alone. Behind your back.”

  That cleaned the smile right off Julie’s face. Yvonne turned back to the road, wishing she’d waited until they were home until she opened her big mouth.

  She felt conflicted over how much to share. They’d agreed to be honest, but did that mean sharing the hurtful words that had spewed out of Daphne’s mouth?

  Yes, she decided. After all, attraction was subjective, and she was glad Daphne wasn’t attracted to Julie because she didn’t want to share her with such a self-serving bitch.

  “She said you were too butch for her.” Just thinking about it made her blood boil. “What a fuckin’ cheek.”

  “Oh, such a lady, no wonder she was hot for you.”

  “Shut up.” Yvonne smiled despite herself. The fact Julie wasn’t the least bit angry helped. “Why aren’t you pissed? I thought you’d be telling me to turn around so you could go and rip her a new one?”

  “Sounds like the one she’s got needs filling…with cement.”

  A deep belly laugh tickled the back of Yvonne’s throat and burst forth. She laughed until tears streamed down her cheeks.

  “Stop, I can’t see where I’m going.” She swiped at her eyes.

  “You’re driving, you stop.”

  “We’re here now.” Yvonne pulled into the driveway. Once she shut off the engine, she turned to Julie. “All jokes aside, why aren’t you angry? I mean some skank just tried to get me to have sex with her behind your back.”

  “Were you attracted to her?”

  “Yes.” She couldn’t lie. She had been. Until she spoke. Funny how personality could make an average person beautiful and turn an attractive person ugly.