by Gerri Hill
“Hey, morning.”
Sam pushed her thoughts away and smiled at Amy. “You’re late.”
“Just barely. Had a late night,” she explained around a yawn as she pulled out a chair.
“You and me, both. I didn’t get in until after three.”
“Three? Did you see Robert?”
Sam shook her head. “I was working.”
“I bet that went over well. Second Friday in a row?”
“Robert and I had a talk,” Sam admitted. “I… sort of ended things with him.”
“Are you serious? I thought you were going to give it some time?” She looked up as the waitress walked over. “Coffee, please.”
“I was, but he was at my apartment Thursday when I got there. He was all hysterical over the shooting.”
Amy’s eyes widened. “What shooting?”
“Didn’t I tell you? Tori and I were staking out a club Wednesday night when she saw a drug deal going down. We… kinda broke it up. Well, she did, mostly. One of them got a shot off. Tori got hit.” Sam looked up shyly. “It was meant for me.”
“Oh my God! Is she okay? I didn’t hear anything about it.”
“She’s fine. Wouldn’t even stay at the hospital overnight. It was on her side,” Sam said, pointing to her waist. “Just a flesh wound, really, but it scared the shit out of me.”
“So Robert heard about it and went crazy?” Amy guessed.
“Yes. Apparently, if we lived together, it would all be better,” Sam said. “I had to tell him, Amy. I told him I didn’t think we wanted the same things out of life. I also told him that I wasn’t going to marry him. Ever.”
“Samantha, what has gotten into you? Just like that? Not let’s see how it works out? You just end things? Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“Amy, it’s not just like that. I told you, I’ve been feeling this way for months.”
“I bet he took it hard. Men always do.”
“Yeah. Although he’s convinced I’ll come to my senses, so he says he’s not giving up.”
“He’s not going to like, turn into a stalker or something, is he?”
“No. Robert is not like that. I just don’t want to hurt him. I wish he would accept this and move on.”
“So, you’re sure this is what you want?”
Sam nodded.
“It just seems kinda sudden, Samantha.” Amy watched her for a second. “You can tell me it’s none of my business, but are you seeing someone else?”
Sam’s eyes widened. “No, of course not. Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know. You’re fidgeting.”
“I am not fidgeting. I’ve just got a lot on my mind,” Sam said.
“Okay. So, you’re not going out with Robert this weekend. You want to do something? I would suggest a movie, but I know your feelings on that when it’s so pretty outside.”
“Actually, I’m going to Tori’s boat later.”
“Again? Why?”
“It’s her birthday today.”
“She’s having a party?”
“No. She doesn’t really…” Have friends, she was going to say.
“She doesn’t celebrate her birthday. She may not even remember that I know.” Sam shrugged. “But I’m bringing a cake.”
Amy nodded. “You’ve become quite fond of her, haven’t you?”
“Yes, I have. Quite fond.” Sam squeezed her eyes shut for a second, wondering how much to confide to Amy. “Amy, you’re my best friend and you’ve known me for years. Can I ask you something?” she said quietly.
“Of course.” Amy leaned forward. “What is it?”
“In all these years, did you ever once think that I might be… gay?”
“What? Where did that come from?” Amy shook her head. “No, of course not. Why? Is it this case? I know you’ve been going to lesbian bars. Did someone hit on you or something?”
“No, it’s not that.” Shit, she should have just kept quiet.
“Your partner? Has she hit on you?”
“No, Amy, she hasn’t. But… I’m thinking I wouldn’t mind if she did.”
“What?” Amy gasped. She leaned forward again. “What is going on with you?”
Samantha shrugged and stared into her coffee. Yes, what’s going on with me?
“Is this why you ended things with Robert. Because…”
“No, Amy.” She finally raised her eyes, meeting those of her friend. “Robert doesn’t… move me,” she said.
“And this woman does?” Amy whispered.
“I think she could,” Sam admitted. “Amy, you know as well as I do that before Robert, there really wasn’t anyone. I dated, but never anything serious. None of them ignited any passion in me. I had begun to think that it just didn’t exist. And Robert was handsome and nice and we got along and I thought it was enough. But it’s not. I can’t live the rest of my life with a man… that doesn’t excite me.”
“So who excites you? What excites you?” Amy asked hesitantly.
Sam squeezed her eyes shut, thinking she had said far too much already. But she so needed to talk about it, to voice her thoughts to someone.
“The other night when we were out, it was the first time I’d been in a gay bar. I was watching two women together, kissing and touching… and something happened to me,” Sam whispered. “I felt a connection with what they were doing. It seemed… it looked so natural.”
Amy stared. “I don’t know what to say to you. You actually think you might be gay? You’re thirty-four. Don’t you think you’d have realized it before now?”
“Would I? It never occurred to me. I was brought up to look for a man to marry. I never considered I should be looking for a woman.”
“Samantha, it would have come up. You would have seen someone, made a connection before this… something. Just because you haven’t met a man that excites you, doesn’t mean you’re gay, for God’s sake!”
“Last night, Tori and I were pretending to be a couple, to fit in at the bar. We held hands, we danced… we touched.” At Amy’s gasp, Sam smiled. “Not like that, Amy. But it was so natural for me, you know? It should have felt odd, strange, something. But it didn’t. I could have easily forgotten we were working and only pretending to be on a date. It could have been so real.”
“What does she say about this?”
“Tori? Oh, no, I’ve not said a word to her. No, she’s never said or done anything to make me think… well, other than a few teasing comments, but really, she’s not done anything that would be considered inappropriate.”
Amy shook her head. “I don’t know what to say.” Amy stared. “So, you’re… attracted to her? Like… sexually?”
“Yes… like sexually.”
“And you can actually see yourself touching her, letting her touch you?”
“I know you don’t understand… but yes… God, yes.”
“Well, you’re right. I don’t understand.”
“I know. I’m sorry I sprung this on you like I did. And probably nothing will come of it. I mean, for one thing, we work together. And then, you know, she thinks I’m straight.”
“Samantha, maybe it’s just because you’ve been hanging out with her, working this case. You’re around it more. Maybe that’s all it is.”
“That’s what you want it to be, isn’t it?”
“Yes. Is it wrong of me to want you to be normal?”
“Normal?”
“I’m sorry. You know what I mean. I’ve known you ten years. I can’t all of a sudden think of you as… gay,” she finished in a whisper. “I don’t think you should see her this weekend,” Amy said firmly. “You’re not in the right frame of mind. Anything could happen.”
“Amy, it’s her birthday. I’m not going to attack her on her boat,” Sam said with a smile.
“But she might.”
“No. She won’t. That’s just it. No matter what happens, she would never initiate anything. I know that.”
“You can’t possi
bly know that. You’ve only known her two months. She might get you on that boat and God knows what might happen.”
“I do know her.” And as much as Sam might want Tori to do something, she knew Tori never would. “If anything comes from this, it will be my doing, not hers. Maybe that’s what scares me.”
“Jesus.” Then Amy leaned forward, elbows on the table. “What is she like? I’ve never met her, but I’ve heard she’s attractive in that lesbian sort of way.”
Sam laughed. “Lesbian sort of way?”
“You know what I mean.”
“She is very attractive. She’s a little taller than I am, dark hair, lean, fit. She’s got eyelashes you would kill for,” Sam said. “Most people are intimidated by her. God knows I was that first week. But after that day in the tunnel, she’s opened up to me, let me get to know her, and she’s so different from what she portrays. And I am… attracted to her.” Sam leaned forward. “Amy, last night, it was all I could do not to kiss her. God, I wanted to. I wanted to know what it would be like.”
“Maybe you’re just curious. They say a lot of straight women go through this.”
“They say that, huh? Well I certainly don’t want to sleep with another woman just because I’m curious.”
“Oh my God. I can’t believe we’re sitting here talking about having sex with another woman.”
Sam reached across the table and took Amy’s hand. “Thank you for not freaking out about this,” she said.
“You’re my best friend. I’m not going to freak out. Now, Robert, that’s another story. He will freak out.”
“What makes you think I’m going to tell him?”
Sam balanced her backpack in one hand and the cake in the other. She thought it might be a bit presumptuous, but she’d packed extra clothes in case she stayed overnight. She had absolutely no illusions as to what might happen, but she didn’t want to cut their boat trip short just because Tori thought she had to bring her back.
But she was nervous. Her footsteps echoed on the pier and she paused, letting an older man with three fishing poles pass by her. It was another beautiful day and the marina was busier than the last time she’d been here. Out on the water, boats were already cruising past and just as she heard the roar of a Jet Ski, she was splashed with water as they got a little too close to the pier. She laughed and waved them on when they slowed to apologize.
She found Tori sitting in a lawn chair at the end of the pier, catching the warm rays of the sun. Her breath caught. Tori was in nothing but her sports bra and shorts. She stopped, watching. Tori had her head leaned back, eyes closed, hands crossed at her stomach. She was sleeping. She looked adorable. Sam was quiet as she allowed her eyes to travel over the bare torso.
Walking over, she lightly touched Tori on the shoulder. The other woman nearly jumped out of her chair.
“Jesus Christ!”
Sam laughed. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”
Tori quickly grabbed her T-shirt and slipped it over her body in one motion. She then touched her heart and grinned. “I almost had a heart attack.”
“Sorry,” Sam said again. She was amused at how quickly Tori covered herself. She had been enjoying the view.
“Just catching a nap.” Then Tori peered in the bag that Sam held. “What you got there?”
“Birthday cake,” she said.
Tori’s smile faltered, then she raised her eyes to Sam. “For me?” she asked quietly.
“Of course. It’s your birthday, isn’t it?”
Tori clenched her jaw. She hadn’t had a birthday cake since she was twelve. She had forbidden Aunt Carol to ever bake one. That was what her mother had done. Her mother was gone. So were her birthdays. But somehow, this gesture of Sam’s warmed her heart more than she could have imagined. More than she could express.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
“You’re welcome,” Sam said just as quietly. Then she handed the bag to Tori. “I brought some wine, too. And a few snacks. I didn’t want to come empty-handed.”
Tori still stared. “You don’t know what this means to me. No one’s ever done this.”
“Well, it’s your birthday. We’re going to celebrate.”
“In that case, come aboard,” Tori offered.
They left the marina as soon as they had Sam’s things stored inside the cabin. She again sat up top with Tori as they cruised slowly around the lake. It was a warm day, hinting at the heat that would be upon them in a few months, but Sam doubted it was ever that stifling here, out on the water. She leaned back and watched their surroundings. The trees were all leafed out again and the drab, brown landscape of winter gave way to the brilliant green colors of spring. It was rejuvenating, being outside like this. Growing up in Denver, Sam had enjoyed the outdoors, even in winter. She was no stranger to the ski slopes and she always thought that if her parents would have allowed it, she might have done quite well in competition. But her mother insisted it was no sport for a lady, especially one destined to marry the Mayor’s son.
She wondered why she had gotten away from outdoor activities. College? She supposed that’s when it started, but once she was working, she was often too tired. Then, Robert. He was your typical city boy. Brunch on weekends usually followed by a movie or a trip to the mall. Dinner in, which they cooked themselves, or out with a small group of friends. His friends, mostly. It wasn’t that she didn’t like them. In fact, she’d gotten on well with most of them. But, still, they were Robert’s colleagues. And truthfully, most of the men she worked with and the few women would never have fit in with Robert’s friends. But all of that left little time for play. She looked around her again, finally settling on Tori, who looked so tanned and fit and relaxed sitting up here on her boat.
“You’re being quiet,” Tori finally said.
Sam waved her hand, dismissing her comment. “A thousand things running through my mind,” she said. “What time did you get out here?”
“About four.”
“You drove up last night? You were exhausted, Tori.”
“Yeah. But I’d rather be exhausted and wake up here than in my dark little apartment,” she said.
Sam tried to picture what her apartment would look like. She envisioned a cramped older building with tiny, dark rooms. There would be little furniture and the blinds would always be closed. It was a sad thought, the sight in her mind. But she doubted it was far from the truth.
Tori pulled into one of the many small coves on the lake. She dropped anchor and they went below, pulling out chairs into the sun. Sam took the beer that Tori offered her and she settled back, letting her eyes close. The rocking of the boat lulled her and she felt sleep tugging. She tried to fight it off. She rolled her head to the side, watching Tori. She was sorting through fishing lures. Sam wondered if that was Tori’s passion or if it was just a means to pass the time when she was alone. Which was often, Sam reminded herself.
“Have you always liked to fish?” she asked.
Tori nodded. “We used to go camping all the time. Usually on a lake. In fact, we came here quite often. My dad loved to fish. I think it was therapy, you know? You just toss the line in and reel it back, over and over. It’s easy to forget about… things.” Tori stood and cast the line over the side, letting it sink, then began pulling it back in slowly. “We went up to Colorado several times, too. My dad bought an old camper,” she said. “We were cramped as hell, but it was so much fun. The mountains are beautiful. You must miss that,” she said.
“Yeah, sometimes I do. I always think I’ll go back some summer and do some camping and hiking. But then, if I do that, I’d feel obligated to see the folks. And that just depresses me,” she admitted. “So, I haven’t gone up there.”
“When’s the last time you went to see them?”
Sam grimaced. She always hated this part. “You’ll think I’m an ass,” she said.
“No, I won’t.”
“My grandmother’s funeral, six years ago.”
&nbs
p; Tori only nodded. She wasn’t one to judge. Just because she’d had an ideal family growing up, didn’t mean everyone had. She saw it all the time, kids running away, parents disowning their own children for whatever reason. Expectations were high, she knew. And so many parents wanted to relive their own life through their kids. To try to undo past wrongs. It seldom worked.
“Did you not have grandparents, Tori?”
“My mother’s family was from Michigan. We didn’t really see them much. My grandmother-my dad’s mother-was alive, but not in good health. My dad’s brother lived here and he was a cop, too, actually. But they never really got along, and that trickled down to the kids, so they didn’t exactly welcome me with open arms. I did stay with them for a while, but they couldn’t deal with it. Couldn’t deal with me.”
“Is your uncle still alive?”
“Yes. He retired as a Captain about six years ago.”
“But you’re still not close?”
Tori shrugged. “He never made it a secret he didn’t like me. I never knew if it carried over from my dad, or the fact that Aunt Carol and Louise raised me. We didn’t have a whole lot of run-ins, though. He was already with CIU when I moved to Homicide.”
“You didn’t have a lot of run-ins? Does that mean you had some?”
Tori laughed. “There was one instance when he told me I was unmanageable and out of control, and I’d be lucky if I lived to see thirty.”
Sam shook her head, trying to imagine Tori as a twelve-yearold and then again as a young woman. She would have been difficult to deal with, Sam suspected. Then she smiled. Most thought she was still difficult to deal with.
They sat quietly as Tori continued to cast her line, only to reel it back in again. Conversation was sparse, but it was not an uncomfortable silence. It was companionable, relaxing. They both took turns retrieving beer and by the time the sun was sinking, Sam was feeling a buzz. A nice buzz. But she was starving. She went inside and cut up the three cheeses she had brought and piled a plate high with crackers.