by Geonn Cannon
Robin’s stomach and chest were slick with sweat, her hands coated with moisture she’d gathered from Molly’s back. Her toes curled inside her socks, and she arched into Molly’s next thrust. She cried out, unable to stop herself, as she climaxed. Her fingernails dug into Molly’s shoulder, and she whispered, “April, oh, my April...”
Molly bowed her head to Robin’s shoulder, eyes screwed tightly shut, and continued to thrust. Robin obviously had no idea what she’d said, so she simply continued to thrust her hips forward. Robin’s hand slipped between their bodies and found Molly’s clit. She spread the folds with her index and ring fingers and pushed the knuckle of her middle finger into the wetness. Molly shuddered and embraced Robin. She squeezed her eyes shut and came with a quiet cry, her arms tightening around Robin’s neck until the climax passed.
They parted and looked at one another in the unforgiving, bright light of the room, sweat quickly drying on their skin. Robin’s short bangs stuck to her forehead like a hundred dark threads, her eyes now lucid and her mouth hanging slightly open. Molly kissed her before she could say anything and pushed her down to the bed.
“Molly,” Robin whispered as Molly stretched out on top of her.
“Shh,” Molly said again. “Don’t.”
Robin closed her eyes and turned her head, kissing Molly’s bicep. She kept her lips against the smooth, warm skin until Molly pulled her arm away and fell to one side. They stared up at the ceiling in silence, neither one of them willing to make the first move to their clothes. Molly kept telling herself she’d get up in a second. Robin was sure that if she sat up, blood would rush to her head and she’d wake up from this nightmare.
Instead, they both fell asleep within minutes of each other, sprawled naked on the bed they had just christened.
##
Molly stopped in the doorway of April’s room. It was still a shock, seeing the shoulder-length mop of hair that was left of her sister’s former mane. They wore matching red gowns over their brand-new dresses and Molly’s hair was tied back in a tight French braid to accommodate her cap. She knocked on the door frame, and April looked up. “Hi,” she said, and looked back down at her lap.
“What are you doing?” Molly asked, still hesitant. She wasn’t sure where their relationship was and didn’t want to risk another slap.
“I’m trying to get this damn bracelet latched.”
Molly walked into the room and rounded the foot of the bed. She knelt in front of her sister, who held her hand out to her without comment. Molly took the bracelet and looped it around April’s wrist. She used her thumbnail to pull back the little hook. She latched the chain together and let it go.
April shook her wrist and let the bracelet fall naturally down her sleeve. “Thanks.”
“I’m sorry.”
April looked up at her.
“I didn’t mean to. I didn’t want...” She was looking at the hem of April’s dress, showing through the parted halves of her graduation robe. She took her sister’s hands and said, “You were hurting and she pulled up and you told me it was your only chance, April. And I wanted to take away your hurt and I wanted to be able make you smile so...so I went. And she kissed me and I didn’t...” She looked up and tears were rolling down her cheeks. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
April reached out and stroked Molly’s cheek. She moved her hand to Molly’s hair, then bent down and kissed her forehead. Despite the tenderness, Molly could still feel the distance between them. She knew it was a chasm they wouldn’t be able to bridge with a single apology, maybe never. April ran her hands over Molly’s head, rested her hands on the tight strands of Molly's braid, and said, “I know. I just...need a little time to get over it, okay?”
“I’m going to Portland in two weeks,” Molly said. She was planning to look for a job and a place to live while she attended WCI. “I don’t want us to go away angry at each other like this. I mean...angry like this and then separated more than we ever have been? Can we survive that?”
“We’re going to have to, Molly,” April sighed. “This isn’t something we can fix in two weeks.” She brushed her thumbs across Molly’s cheeks and wiped her tears away. “But we’re going to be all right. We’re the Page sisters.” She smiled and tugged gently on Molly’s braid. “Time will heal all wounds, right?”
Molly nodded, but she wasn’t sure. Before she could say anything else, their father called for April to “get your little butt out here so Mama can take some pictures.” Molly leaned back, resting her butt on the heels of her shoes, and watched April walk out of the bedroom with her red gown swinging behind her like a cape.
Molly had no reason to doubt her sister’s words. Two weeks later, she left for culinary school, and April stayed on the island for the summer. They met up for Christmases and Thanksgivings, birthdays were shared in Vegas or Vancouver, but they never spent more than a week together. Molly noticed their drifting apart only long enough to be hurt by it but couldn’t think of any way to make amends now. It had been too long.
Other than the occasional phantom feeling -- Molly had gotten inexplicably aroused several times and attributed it to her sister getting lucky somewhere, or April complained of a throbbing in her hand when Molly accidentally cut herself with a kitchen knife -- neither twin thought of the other very often.
Until the night Molly woke sobbing with the undeniable, heartbreaking knowledge that April was dead. She wept because she had been hollowed out. She wept because she was now totally alone in the world. She wept because, although she’d never admitted it to herself, she’d always held out hope she and April would reunite and old bridges would be mended.
##
Robin kissed the curve of April’s breast. “Oh, baby,” she whispered. She brushed her nose against April’s skin and lifted her head to kiss the erect nipple. “Baby, I had the worst nightmare.”
“It was real.”
The voice was exactly the one she was expecting, but the words were enough to shock her completely awake. She recoiled from the nipple and opened her eyes. The memory of the bedroom, the bed-and-breakfast...April’s death. She sat up, holding the blanket to her chest and inadvertently pulling it away from Molly’s nudity. She smoothed down her hair and scanned the bedroom, marking the detritus of their lovemaking. She vaguely remembered waking up in the night, being on top of Molly and letting Molly go down on her.
Everything felt the same; it was like being with April one last time. How the hell was that fair? To Molly, who had made love to someone who wasn’t making love to her? To Robin, who had just started to get used to waking up without April there? What was fair about it?
She turned and looked at Molly and said, “Um...”
“Yeah,” Molly said. She sat up and put her legs over the edge of the bed. Robin stared at Molly’s back and saw April. In the slope of her shoulders, in the line of her spine. Everything was identical. Except for that little crescent-shaped scar on Molly’s shoulder, the image was like memory come to life. Molly pushed a hand through her hair, gathering it in her hand in lieu of a ponytail. She stood and walked around the bed, not bothering to cover up as she sought out her clothes.
Robin stayed in bed as Molly retrieved her jeans and underwear, sitting in the armchair to pull them on. “We really shouldn’t have done that,” Robin whispered.
“No,” Molly agreed. She sat back, wearing only her bra and unbuttoned jeans. “I’ve only been with two women in my life and both of them called me April. There’s a confidence booster.”
“You’ve only been with two women?” Robin asked.
“I’m not gay.”
Robin scoffed. “Yeah, you made your case really well.”
Molly looked up, her eyes shiny with tears. “I’m not gay. April i–was gay and I’m–”
“What, asexual? Someone men can thrust against? Have you ever had an orgasm with a man, Molly?”
“Lots of women haven’t had orgasms,” Molly said as she pulled on her shoes. “It’s not...
it doesn’t happen every time.”
“It happened at least twice last night,” Robin countered.
Molly shook her head. Her hair fell down and obscured her face like a veil. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
Robin said, “I’m not sad for you and April anymore. I can almost understand why you two were...the way you were. But now...Molly, you have got to stop lying to yourself.”
“Whatever.” She zipped her jeans, left her hair down, and headed for the door. She turned the knob and hesitated. “Despite...you. Last night was like water.”
Robin frowned.
Molly shrugged. “Insubstantial. It’s there, but it just...falls through your fingers. I run last night through my head, and it feels like water.”
“You must have been thirsty.”
Molly turned and looked at her. She didn’t have to say anything; her eyes said all Robin needed to know. Robin sighed and decided to let it drop. “Good-bye, Molly. Will I see you again before I leave the island?”
“I...” Molly looked at the apple-shaped knob between her fingers and she finally turned it. She stepped out into the hall and said, “I don’t know. I really don’t.” She closed the door on Robin and fled the room before the hosts could wake up and see her.
Chapter Ten
Molly descended the stairs two at a time, still buttoning her shirt as she tried to flee the house. As she burst into the kitchen, she barely had time to register that she wasn’t alone. The older woman at the stove turned and said, “Good morning, Mrs. Fraser...oh.”
“Uh. Robin...Ms. Fraser and I...were out late last night. I came up and kind of fell asleep in the chair.”
“Oh. Well, okay,” the woman said. “Would you like to stay for breakfast?”
“No,” Molly said, a bit more harshly than she’d planned. “No,” she said again, softer this time. She checked her watch; it was still way too early to go in to work, but she wasn’t keen on sitting down to breakfast with this cheery apple lady and April's former lover. She tucked her hair behind her ears -- she’d forgotten her ties upstairs, so her hair was down against her shoulders the way April had always worn it -- and moved quickly to the back door.
The woman said, “Have a nice day.”
“You, too,” Molly managed as she shut the door. She leaned against the side of the house and closed her eyes. The morning still smelled new, the sun painting everything a beautiful shade of gold. It reflected off shop windows and the windshields of passing cars. She took a deep breath of the early morning and let it out slowly through her nose. She checked her watch and decided she had time to run home, get a shower, and change clothes before she went to work.
And maybe if she managed her time well enough, she’d also be able to fit in a steady round of “What the hell was I thinking?” while she was at it.
##
After a quick shower, Molly wrapped herself in a towel and passed the telephone table in the hall on her way into the bedroom. A red seven flashed at her from the answering machine. “Our condolences,” she could hear the callers saying. “She was so young, it’s so tragic, share your grief with us because we knew her when...” She was in no way in the mood for that, so she ignored the plaintive seven and went into the bedroom. She put on a white T-shirt with an unbuttoned red blouse over it, tucking them both into a pair of blue jeans.
She looked into the mirror and saw April staring back at her until she gathered her hair and tied it into pigtails. She found her bag and looped it over the shoulder as the phone began ringing again. She gave it a hateful stare and walked out of the house.
Unfortunately, even with taking the second longest shower of her life -- the first had been the morning after fucking Beth Gillis in the backseat of her daddy’s car -- it was still a full half-hour before nine. She knew Clifton wouldn’t let anyone, not even her, in before that magic hour, and the day was starting out to be much nicer than the rest of the week. She put on a baseball cap, pulled her ponytail through the hole in the back, and started walking.
Nice way to remember your sister, she thought as she headed downhill. You bang her girlfriend not forty-eight hours after they put April in the ground. Real nice.
She stuck her hands in her pockets and bowed her head, watching her tennis shoes as they scuffed across the pavement. She stopped when she got to the corner and peered toward the harbor. The water, just visible between two peaked roofs, gleamed bright and golden with the sun. She remembered the feel of Robin on top of her, Robin’s tongue in her mouth and swirling across more...sensitive areas, and shuddered.
This was as much for April as Beth Gillis was.
How do you figure?
You gave Robin a chance to say good-bye. To have one last night with the woman she loved. What’s so wrong about that? It’s not like you’re going to fall in love with her, or vice versa. You’re not gay, remember? Remember the mantra?
“I remember,” Molly said softly.
She stepped off the curb and crossed in front of a small yellow car, strolling down Spring Street towards the ferry lanes. It was Saturday, and the tourists had shown up in droves. Weekends were always bad, but weekends during the summer were hell.
People who’d come to the island on the early morning ferry were now lined in the lanes, waiting for the second ferry of the day to come and take them home. She saw people in clusters on the sidewalk, watched as an idiot tourist crossed the street outside of the crosswalk and almost got flattened by a local’s truck. She smiled as the local smirked and shook his head behind the wheel: Tourists were fifty points in what the high school kids called Pedestrian Bowling. The way the tourists were out today, she bet the seniors could have managed a couple hundred...
A couple of things hit her at once.
Tourists were everywhere because it was Saturday.
And on Saturday, Gail’s opened at eight.
“Shit!” She started running down the sidewalk, ignoring the odd looks and shouts she got as she pushed people out of the way. Sure enough, there was a line leading out the front door of Gail’s and out onto the boardwalk. “Shit,” she panted. She pushed past them rather than going around to the kitchen door and muttered apologies as she hurried to the front of the line.
The hostess looked up at the ruckus and her eyes widened. “Hi, Molly.”
“I know, I know. Where’s Clifton?”
“In the back. He’s helping out since we didn’t know if you would be in.”
“I’m here, I showed up,” Molly said. She was mentally kicking herself as she crossed the crowded dining room. The tables were full, half of them still waiting for their meals, which meant the line out front was only going to get longer. She pushed into the kitchen and took in the chaos. The morning crew had apparently gotten slammed hard; Lilly, Shane and Clifton were all pitching in, but it was clear they needed an extra pair of hands. The prep table was a mess, and Shane’s hair was hanging undone out from under her toque. Clifton’s apron was tied in a sloppy knot, tangled in front of him as he busily put together a salmon plate.
Molly ran to her locker. She tossed in her cap and bag, snatching a jacket off the hanger with one hand and her toque with the other. She worked her arms into the sleeves and left it unbuttoned as she returned to the front lines. “I am so sorry, Clifton. I completely forgot what day it was.” She stood behind Shane and took Shane’s hat off. She gathered Shane’s hair in her fist, tied it into a makeshift ponytail, and set the hat down on top of it.
“Thanks, babe,” Shane said. “Nice to see you.”
“We tried calling,” Clifton said. He put the plate in the pass-through and called out, “Order up, buttermilk pancakes.” To Molly, he said, “When you didn’t answer, we just figured you weren’t coming in today.”
“And leave you hanging on a weekend?” Molly said. She shooed him out of the way and took her position next to Shane. “What do we have?” she asked.
“Eggs benedict, sunrise platter and the Harborside Waffles,” Clifton said.
&n
bsp; “Excellent. Sunrise platter, I can handle that.” She moved to the stove and looked up as Clifton headed for the kitchen door. “Clifton. Really sorry to leave you guys hanging like this.”
“Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Just get these orders out. You’re worth two of me any day.” He called, “Coming through.” before pushing through the swinging door, just in case a busboy was on his way to the door with a stack of dirty dishes.
Shane waited until Clifton was gone before she said, “That’s the damn truth.” She joined Molly at the stove and said, “Nice of you to rescue us.”
Molly shook her head and said, “I thought it was Friday.”
“You’ve been through a loss.”
“I know I’ve been through a loss,” Molly snapped. “Would everyone please stop telling me that I’ve been through a loss? I know! It was my fucking sister!”
Shane was unphased. She calmly looked up from her halibut and said, “Molly. Take it easy.”
Molly exhaled and straightened her hat. “Sorry, Shane. I’m...”
“Keeping you in check,” Shane interrupted. She gestured with her fork and said, “Focus on your pancakes.”
Molly nodded and went back to work. Lloyd appeared in the window and Lilly took the order he handed over. As Lilly went to work on her order -- chopped ham with two eggs -- Molly added butter to her own skillet to begin her sunrise platter, the sweat beginning to bead on her forehead under the edge of her toque.
Slowly, the events of the night before faded from her mind and by the time the lunch crowd started coming in, she was focused entirely on her work: pan-seared fresh fish with shiitake mushrooms and brown rice, seared Alaskan sea scallops with heirloom tomatoes, Northwest clams with garlic and butter cream sauce. She was in her zone. She was where she needed to be.
She shut her mind off and went to work.
##
Robin stood under the spray of the shower and rested her elbows against the tile wall. The cold, cold water coursed down her back. Her hair was already flattened to her head and her shoulders trembled at the ice-cold temperature. But it was good. It was better than being on fire. As long as she was thinking about the water, she wasn’t thinking about Ap–Molly. She stepped back and parted her lips and swallowed a mouthful of water.