by M. Ullrich
She traced the outer lips of her vagina with her middle finger, and she recalled the way Catherine smiled cockily at her reaction. Imogene bit her lip and whimpered. She was still so sensitive. She ran the tip of her finger through the thick wetness that collected at her entrance. Even in the bath, Imogene could feel how ready she was to be taken again. She entered herself with one finger and grunted in disappointment. She had only spent one night with Catherine and she was already ruined for any other touch.
Imogene started to piston in and out slowly, matching the rhythm Catherine had set the night before to the best of her recollection. She cupped her left breast with her other hand and tugged roughly at her hardened nipple. Imogene pictured Catherine’s gorgeous face as she started to circle her own clit. It usually took her a while to get this worked up when she was alone, but she was already writhing beneath the bubbles. All it took was thinking about tasting Catherine from navel to waiting pussy, and she was screaming out into her porcelain surrounds. She fell back into the bath, sated, breathless, and smiling broadly.
Imogene showered quickly to wash her hair and emerged from the bathroom thirty minutes later, checking her phone. Still nothing from Catherine. Her face dropped and the worry she had fought all afternoon finally broke through. Imogene found it hard to believe a Saturday meeting would still be going on almost four hours later, but she supposed it was possible. With an office in New York City, anything was possible.
Imogene’s stomach sank. Anything could have happened to Catherine. Trains got derailed, pedestrians were hit in crosswalks, and elevators failed all the time. No. Imogene scolded herself. Stop thinking like that. Catherine is a workaholic. You knew this from the start. She furrowed her eyebrows. Did that mean Catherine would always put her career first? Imogene dressed in her most comfortable weekend clothes, then she picked up her phone and typed out a message. One more message, that was all she’d allow herself. They had slept together once. Imogene didn’t want to appear clingy, but she was concerned for Catherine’s well-being. No harm in that. She typed rapidly, asking simply if everything was okay, and hit send. Before she could let go of the phone, it beeped with Catherine’s reply.
Fine. Busy.
Imogene fell to the sofa and her heart fell along with her. Yes, they had only spent one night together, but Catherine’s words were so dismissive they hurt. Didn’t Catherine know she was falling for her? Maybe that was the problem. Maybe she had scared Catherine before she ever really had the chance to be with her. She couldn’t let that happen, Catherine wasn’t getting away that easily. Imogene felt her resolve building. This relationship was worth it. She trusted Catherine. She’d give Catherine her space for a little while, but they’d need to talk. Soon.
❖
Catherine tucked her phone into her pocket and graciously accepted a large glass of water from a dapper young waitress. She wasn’t hungry, and as much as she’d love a strong drink in the moment, she’d settle for water. After three large gulps, she put the glass down and sat back. Catherine pushed her heavy curls back from her face and off her shoulders.
“How did you end up at a publishing company?” she asked Linda. “Your job was everything to you.”
“It was.”
“What changed?” Catherine inquired curtly.
“I got fired.” Linda made the admission so easily, Catherine couldn’t figure out whether Linda was proud or ashamed of it. “For having an affair with a student.”
Catherine couldn’t help but laugh. She rubbed roughly at her forehead and shifted in her freshly uncomfortable chair before tugging at the hem of her sweater. “What about your tenure?”
“Tenure doesn’t make you invincible, Catherine,” Linda said. She still corrects people like a teacher, Catherine thought. She can make you feel like the head of the class or the bottom of the barrel.
Linda sat so poised, so languid, and seemingly relaxed that Catherine found it infuriating. “But you were always so careful,” Catherine said.
“I was, but she wasn’t.” Linda sat back as the waitress brought a bowl of creamy soup to the table.
Catherine fought against the jealousy she felt building because of this stranger, this other woman who had the same chance to experience Linda the way Catherine had. She watched intently as her ex-lover stirred the thick liquid with her spoon. Steam bellowed up and disappeared as it collided with her thin lips and sharp nose.
Linda swallowed her mouthful of the hearty meal and said, “She wasn’t you, though.” The corner of Catherine’s mouth pulled up, but she kept her eyes on the table. “After I was fired, I was forced to take stock of my life, look back at my achievements and regrets. I only had one regret.”
“Getting caught?” Catherine winced as soon as the words left her mouth, and yet Linda seemed unaffected as she ate.
“No,” she replied coolly. Linda pushed her bowl aside and leaned forward with her elbows on the tabletop. “I regret how things ended between us. I regret not being clear about how I truly felt for you. I regret not chasing after you that day when you left.”
Linda reached for Catherine’s left hand on the table. Catherine swallowed hard when Linda skimmed the top of her hand with cool fingertips. She didn’t pull away.
“That’s actually three regrets.”
“Allow me to rephrase. I have a list of small regrets that boil down to one that shook me with its enormity: losing you.”
After eight years of waiting, Catherine was hearing the words she had spent a year waiting for and another seven forcing herself to never imagine again.
“Spoken like a true English teacher.” Catherine sighed and wiped a stray tear away with her right hand. She turned her hand over, subconsciously opening herself up to Linda once again. Catherine felt Linda tracing the lines of her palm down the length of her bare ring finger. She closed her eyes at her touch.
“I’ve missed you. I just didn’t realize how much until I saw you again today, and I’d like to see more of you. Are you seeing anyone?” Linda asked with hushed confidence. Catherine’s misty eyes shot open at the unexpected question.
Her breathing increased, and she pursed her lips. Looking into Linda’s eyes, she easily conjured a vision of Imogene’s smiling face. But the adult Catherine was no match for the wounded twenty-one-year-old deep within. After all these years, she finally had what she always wanted, and she couldn’t turn her back on that. “No.”
Chapter Twenty
Somehow it was Tuesday. Somehow Imogene had managed to start her week just like any other, keeping busy with Cowboy Fran’s spring collections and knickknacks. She had spent the remainder of her weekend fighting the urge to wallow. Monday, she spent reorganizing the boutique and dodging Sophia’s calls. She didn’t need a heart-to-heart right now. How was she going to answer any questions regarding her ambiguous relationship with Catherine when she was still so unsure of it herself?
Imogene sighed deeply and dropped the glass bead necklace she was holding on the countertop. She stared down into the swirling purples and blues of the beads and got lost in her thoughts. Maybe she should talk to Sophia. Who better to give her guidance than her best friend and spiritual advisor? Imogene chortled. Haven’t you had enough bad luck with advisors recently? She grimaced. Maybe keeping Sophia out of it for now was best. Imogene picked up the necklace and started to return her attention to the display she was working on when the chime above the door rang out.
“Hello!” Imogene said in her artificially chipper store voice. “I’ll be right with you in one minute.” She hung the necklace from an ornate bronze hook display and turned her attention to the new arrival.
“Alice,” she said, shocked into a momentary silence. “What a nice surprise.” She struggled to keep her tone even. She had never seen Alice in her shop before. Was this bad news from Catherine? Why didn’t she come herself? Imogene couldn’t tell much from Alice’s expression, but she didn’t know her too well.
Alice walked carefully between the loaded rack
s until she was within a few feet of Imogene. “I was just in the neighborhood and wanted to stop by,” she said as Imogene relaxed. “Catherine had told me so much and yet so little about your store that I had to see it for myself. I don’t know how I missed it. I may have found a new favorite!”
“Do you shop on Washington Street often?” Imogene started to twirl a small section of her auburn hair nervously. Making small talk with the best friend of the woman she was desperately pining after wasn’t the best way of keeping her mind off Catherine.
“Not as much as I’d like to.”
Imogene wondered why Alice had come to the shop. Surely someone on her end of town had one of the Moroccan scarves she was running between her fingertips. Imogene could tell she wanted to say more.
“Is there something in particular you’re looking for?” Imogene asked. “A gift or something for your—”
“Have you heard from Catherine?”
Imogene froze at the question. “Not since the night of the benefit.” Alice appeared to be surprised by the answer. “Have you?”
“Nope. I was hoping to find out where the two of you rushed off to in such a hurry.”
“Home,” Imogene answered quickly without realizing the implications. Alice’s smile turned into a triumphant leer. “My home, no! Separate—I mean…” Imogene stumbled over her words, and Alice’s smile grew wider. She took a deep breath and cleared her throat. “I do not feel comfortable discussing what may or may not have transpired between me and Catherine Friday night without her being present.” She turned her back on Alice and went behind the counter. Where are all the customers when I need them?
“How diplomatic of you.” Alice chuckled. “Imogene, I’m not here to get details, although I would love some. I’m just checking on Catherine. I called the office only to be told she’s in meetings. I even went to her condo, and she wasn’t there. She’s not answering my calls or messages. I’m worried.”
“Well, she’s definitely not here.” Imogene grumbled and started to play with a receipt that had been discarded on the counter.
“It’s not like Catherine to disappear without at least a phone call or text—”
“She sent me a text Saturday.” Imogene sighed in resignation. “She had an emergency meeting Saturday morning and when I tried to get in touch with her later, she told me she was busy with work. I haven’t heard from her since.” She watched as Alice processed the information, her green eyes narrowing a bit.
Alice approached the counter and grabbed Imogene’s hand. “I don’t know what Catherine is going through right now, and I will figure that out, but in the meantime, don’t give up on her, Imogene. Please.”
Imogene nodded in agreement but remained silent. She wasn’t ready to give up on Catherine just yet.
Alice and Imogene said their good-byes, and Imogene switched off the neon Open sign as she ushered Alice out. The store needed straightening and so did her apartment, but Imogene couldn’t manage either mindless task. She needed to talk. She needed guidance, and she needed to unload her burdens to the one person who’d created this whole mess in the first place. The idea of keeping any of this from Sophia seemed so foolish now.
❖
Imogene knocked violently on the front door of Sophia’s single-family home. She knew she should have called first, but after a few days of wallowing and Alice’s surprise visit, she didn’t care what was polite. Imogene’s face fell when Chris answered the door with a look of surprise.
“Imogene? What’s up?”
“Hey, Chris.” Imogene shifted from one foot to another, uncomfortably aware of the inconvenience of her sudden appearance. “Is Sophia home?”
“Not yet. She went for drinks with Gladys after work. Do you want to come inside and wait? She should be home soon.”
When Imogene looked up into Chris’s soft brown eyes she could feel her own tears coming to life. Every uncontrollable second of the past few days was coming to a head, and Imogene was heading into an emotional tailspin. He had always been so kind to her, never hesitating to step aside when she needed his wife. Chris treated Imogene like family, but she had never really spent time with him one-on-one before, so she surprised herself when she accepted the invitation and stepped into the warm home.
It was during times like this that Imogene felt her apartment lacked something that made this a real home. Every time she stepped into Chris and Sophia’s home, she was transported back to the time she had helped them paint, deciding on the living room color herself after opening the wrong can of paint and getting started on the largest wall in the room. Truth be told, the bathroom looked better in mossy green than the living room ever would, and the pale yellow lit up the heart of her best friend’s home. Memories of moving furniture and many drunken game nights warmed Imogene’s heart, but that wasn’t the indescribable thing that made this space any more special than her own. It was something else entirely.
“Can I get you something to drink?” Chris asked.
“Please,” she said. I’d love a distraction. “Whatever you’re having is fine.” She removed her coat and tossed it on the arm of the sofa before falling onto the plush furniture. When Chris returned, he handed Imogene a frosty glass bottle. “What’re we having?” She eyed the purple label suspiciously.
“A lager that had raspberries introduced during the final stage of the brewing process.” Ever the beer enthusiast, Chris smiled broadly as Imogene tasted it.
“This is delicious!” The sweet bubbles lingered on her tongue as she savored the taste.
“I know!” He took a large gulp himself. “I keep trying to get Sophia to try it, but you know how she feels about beer.”
“The greatest disagreement in your marriage.” Imogene smirked.
Silence fell over the pair as they sipped at their beverages. Chris ran his palm along his dark, cropped head. “So, did you have fun Friday night?” It was a casual enough question, but it hit the sturdy walls Imogene had constructed like a sledgehammer. Tears started to fill her eyes. “Oh, no.” Chris grabbed a square box from the coffee table and handed it to Imogene just in time to muffle the first sob that erupted. “I’m sorry?” The odd question hung between them.
“No, no, no.” Imogene wiped at her wet cheeks. “Don’t apologize. It’s just been a bad few days, that’s all.” She blew her nose with surprising gusto.
Chris placed his bottle on a nearby coaster before clearing his throat and pushing his wire-rimmed glasses farther up his nose. “Tell me about it.” The openness and empathy on his face eased Imogene immediately and she just started talking.
Imogene replayed the night of the benefit and the morning after, leaving out the details that would make her blush. She told him of her friendship with Catherine that had managed to flourish into something she could only label as love. She’d fallen in love with Catherine Carter. Every bit of her, every side and every detail she tried so desperately to hide. In just over a month, Catherine had managed to do what several suitors over the past year could not: capture Imogene Harris’s heart.
And for that, Imogene felt foolish.
“You love her?” Chris asked and sat back.
“I know it sounds crazy because I’ve only known her a month, but yes. God, yes.” Imogene covered her face with her hands.
“Then you have to fight.”
“What are we fighting for?” Sophia asked as she stepped into her home and caught the last few words of the conversation. She placed her purse on an end table and removed her coat.
“I was telling Imogene that if she loves Catherine, she needs to fight for her,” Chris stated so matter-of-factly that Imogene actually envied him.
“Oh dear, what happened?” Sophia wedged herself between her best friend and her husband on the couch.
Imogene and Chris took turns telling the story this time. “My husband is right,” Sophia finally said. “You need to fight or at least get some sort of answer out of her.”
Chris stood and kissed the top of
his wife’s head. “I’ll remember you said I was right. Another beer, Imogene?”
“No, thank you.” Imogene watched the exchange, and the answer became so clear: love made a home into a sanctuary. “You’re lucky to have him.” Imogene’s eyes remained on the man as he left the room.
“I am.” Sophia’s reply was quick. “Now tell me what you couldn’t tell me in front of him—how was it?”
“I can’t even begin to describe it.” Imogene combed her fingers through her long tresses.
“That good?”
“Better.” Imogene’s cheeks reddened. “I won’t go into too much detail, but I will say if I had worried before that we wouldn’t connect on a physical level, those worries are long gone. She was so sweet and so soft with me, but not too gentle, you know? It was like she knew exactly how to touch me and where I needed her to be without any direction.” Imogene’s temperature increased as she reminisced. “It seemed like there was something so meaningful there…” She shook her head. “I guess I was wrong.”
“You need to fight for her, Imogene. If you feel this strongly about her after such a short period of time, then she must be something special.”
“I don’t care what you saw.”
“I’m not talking about my visions right now. I’m talking about what you, what my best friend is feeling. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you react this way to another person. I was beginning to worry that you and Vixen were going to grow old together.” Imogene laughed softly. Sophia grasped her hands. “She hurt you, and I’d love to see her suffer for that, but I think Catherine has been suffering for a long time now. Did she tell you about her past?”
“Yes.”
“The whole story?” Imogene shook her head.
“Not in detail, no.”
“You need to talk to her, tell her how you feel. At the very least, you deserve an explanation. You’re worth more than a short text message.”
“You’re right, I know.” Imogene pulled her clammy hands back to her lap. “I think I’m going to get going. I’m exhausted, and that beer is making me drowsy. Thank you and thank Chris for me. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” She stood, pulled on her jacket, and walked to the door with Sophia close to her back. Sophia wrapped Imogene in a tight, protective embrace.