Warm November

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Warm November Page 7

by Kathleen Knowles


  “Shit. I forgot. Right. Okay. I’m going to the restroom. Bring them in here, and get some coffee and water. Yada, yada.” Hayley went to the bathroom and put on just a touch of lipstick.

  She wished the attorney were there. The first meeting with clients was sometimes difficult because they were nervous about suing their employers. She wasn’t the authority figure they needed to reassure them like Adam was.

  “Hello, Tom Banner? I’m Hayley Daniels, the paralegal. Adam will be here soon.” She turned to the woman who stood next to him. “Hello—?” Hayley assumed she was Tom’s wife.

  “I’m Angie. Tom’s sister.” She shook hands firmly. Hayley motioned for the two of them to have a seat at the conference table, and Lois brought in the tray of coffee and tea. Sister, eh? That was good news.

  “Please help yourselves. I can tell you a little bit about how this process works. We’ll be taking your deposition and depositions of some of the key members of your company, including human resources and your manager. We’ll subpoena all your records. I presume you have good performance evaluations?”

  “He’s the best,” Angie said, enthusiastically. With her short brown hair and tailored clothes, she was quite possibly a lesbian. She had the look Hayley couldn’t quite describe but knew when she saw it. She was trim and seemed somewhere over the age of forty, though it was impossible to tell. Hayley saw no ring on her finger. That, she realized, was no proof of anything either way. Many lesbians now wore wedding rings.

  “Angie, stop.” Tom patted her shoulder. He looked embarrassed and pleased at the same time.

  “It’s fine,” Hayley told them. “We want to present Tom in the best light. Your good opinion counts, even if you can’t testify on his behalf.” Hayley beamed at Angie almost without thinking and got a winning smile back.

  “I’m here for moral support. Whatever he needs me to do.”

  “That’s great. We all need support in this sort of situation. It won’t be easy.”

  “Just so long as Tom gets what he deserves.” Hayley hoped Angie’s faith in her brother was deserved.

  Then the door opened and Adam strode in. In spite of being late for their appointment, he was unruffled. His dark suit, crisp white shirt, and good haircut all broadcast trustworthy lawyer. Which he was. Hayley worked for all three partners, who all had quirks, but Adam was genuinely concerned more about his clients than about winning a huge settlement.

  He shook hands and sat down and immediately engaged Tom, leaving Hayley and Angie to smile vaguely at one another. Every so often, when Adam said something, Hayley took notes on her iPad for discussion later.

  “How long have you been working as a paralegal?” Angie asked.

  “Twenty-five years.”

  “Wowie. You must be good at it.”

  “I don’t know. You’d have to ask the partners, but they keep me around so I suppose I do my job properly.” Angie’s blue eyes were sparkling and merry, and Hayley liked her instantly. A little bell went off in her head. They could date, but they really couldn’t right at that moment. Though Angie wasn’t a party in the case, Hayley’s firm was conservative when it came to those issues. It wouldn’t be professional so she’d have to wait until the case was over, which could take a very long time. No harm in getting to know her in the meantime. The case wouldn’t last forever.

  Meanwhile, though, she had to keep up with the discussion. Adam would likely invite them to dinner at least once or twice while the case was undergoing preparation. That would be like being out on a date with two, count ’em, two chaperones. Hayley’s mood lifted. It could be worse. Tom could have had an interfering wife that Hayley would be expected to help handle. She’d seen that before. No. He came instead with a supportive, loving sister.

  Hayley could afford to be patient. She was waiting for the right person. It made more sense to her to meet someone this way than online. She guessed she was just old-fashioned that way. She caught Angie’s eye from across the table as Tom listened raptly to Adam. Angie favored her with another huge smile, and Hayley tingled from her head to her feet.

  *

  “I’ve made way too much food. Would you like some?” Hayley grinned in what she hoped was an artless fashion. She’d cobbled together an idea of what Merle liked to eat based on the food in the refrigerator and purposefully made enough to feed at least four people. Offering food seemed like a sure-fire way to have a talk. They’d sit together and eat dinner.

  Merle raised her eyebrows. “Nice of you to offer. Are you sure?”

  Hayley waved her hand. “Of course. I’m used to cooking for a family. I can’t seem to orient my mind toward feeding just one person, myself.”

  “You can have leftovers.”

  “Oh, but it’s better fresh.” That wasn’t strictly true. Hayley had made a vegetarian ziti, and in her experience it was just fine the next day or the day after, but she had an ulterior motive.

  “Okay. If you’re sure.”

  Hayley beamed and retrieved some plates and forks and threw together a simple romaine salad. Merle sat down at the kitchen table looking mildly embarrassed, for some reason. Hayley hoped she’d relax when they started eating.

  Arthur sat in the doorway, just outside the kitchen, looking at them longingly.

  Hayley cocked her head toward him. “He’s not allowed in the kitchen?”

  “No. Not unless I invite him and then only for his meals.”

  “He’s so good.” Hayley meant that. It was marvelous that such a big dog kept out from underfoot. His expression was priceless though. Hayley could see where the term “hangdog” came from. He looked at her hopefully and edged his big paw over the threshold. She started to giggle and Merle noticed and grunted at him. He withdrew it immediately, then looked toward Hayley and wagged his tail as though appealing to her to overrule his mistress. Much like a kid would try to game his parents to get what he wanted.

  Hayley served the casserole and salad and seated herself across from Merle.

  “This smells great,” Merle said, with a tone of genuine appreciation.

  “Thanks. You know, I hate cooking for one and eating alone. We could share food, if you want?” Hayley didn’t want to be forward, but it seemed silly to not at least ask the question.

  Merle looked at her as though such a thing had never occurred to her. “Sure. I mean. Yeah. I don’t think our diets are too far apart. I usually go veggie, but I like a little chicken or fish sometimes.”

  “That sounds perfect to me.” Hayley took a bite of her ziti and grinned at Merle while she chewed. She got a nice smile in return. As she hoped, Merle started to relax. It was perhaps a good time to ask her something she’d wondered about.

  “So how long have you lived here? I love this house, by the way, and feel very lucky you’ve accepted me as a housemate.”

  Merle’s eyebrows went up and she looked pleased, but then her face clouded a bit.

  “We bought it in 2004. June, as I recall.”

  “So you’ve lived here awhile. Who’s ‘we’? If you don’t mind my asking.”

  “My, uh, ex-lover.”

  “Oh. Right. You said you had an ex when I first came over to see the house. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be nosy.” Hayley hoped she sounded sincere, because nosy was precisely what she was being.

  “It’s fine.” Merle paused and took another mouthful. She looked as though she was considering what to say next. Or how much to say.

  Hayley decided to forge ahead and see if she could keep the conversation going.

  “We’re kinda in the same boat, I see. I got divorced about six months ago. My ex-husband and I agreed to sell our house. I wanted to start over anyhow. That’s why I was looking for a place to live in, and I wanted to live somewhere like Bernal.”

  “Oh? Of all the neighborhoods in SF, why this one? Not that I blame you. I obviously like it because I’ve lived here for a long time, but what about you?”

  Here was the chance she’d waited for, but she felt
shy and suddenly reluctant to tell the truth. However, she was going to get what she wanted only one way, so she better buck up. She served herself some more salad and put salt and pepper and salad dressing on it, and Merle waited, apparently unperturbed.

  “I wanted to live here because I heard a lot of lesbians live in Bernal Heights. Also, it’s very pretty and quaint.” Hayley locked gazes with Merle then. She couldn’t quite interpret what she saw. Several emotions seemed to flow across Merle’s regular features—surprise, interest, caution, and something that looked like pain.

  “Well. All of those things are true. That was what sold my ex, Kay, and me on buying. Also the hill. I wanted to have a dog and a place to walk our dog. It was Sadie back then.” She fell silent.

  Hayley didn’t say anything right away. She watched Merle, attempting to divine what was going on behind those solemn blue-gray eyes. She couldn’t tell. Merle’s face reverted to its usual pleasant, noncommittal expression. Hayley wasn’t certain she wanted to push for more information. She’d let her secret slip in hopes it would prompt Merle to be forthcoming, but it still felt weird to say something like that. She supposed she was still getting used to her new role. She’d received a bit of information from Merle but wasn’t sure what to do with it.

  It looked like Merle really didn’t want to talk about her past, and Hayley didn’t blame her. They were still strangers, and Hayley could appreciate that Merle didn’t want do that instant-bonding thing women did so often. But she was already interested, and her curiosity slipped into overdrive after Merle’s revelation. “So how long were you together?”

  Merle was quiet for a moment. Then she looked into the middle distance. “Ten years.”

  Hayley saw the real sadness then and heard it in the little catch in Merle’s voice when she spoke. This woman had been hurt, and hurt badly. Hayley wanted to comfort her, make her smile and laugh and feed her some more ziti. Whatever, just to make her feel better, make her happy. Whoa, where had that come from?

  “That sucks.” Hayley meant it, and she said it with such emphasis that it seemed to have jolted Merle out of her despondency.

  “It sure as hell does.”

  Hayley sensed the anger behind that sadness, or maybe it was the other way around. No matter. Merle was looking at her with a rueful but slightly cocky grin, and Hayley was encouraged to keep talking.

  “You know. I didn’t feel a damn thing when I told Howard I wanted a divorce. He didn’t bat an eye either. He knew it was quitting time too. Our son was out of college. We didn’t have the slightest reason to stay together. I’ve done my time as a heterosexual. Done my duty.”

  “So…” Merle said slowly, “you are a lesbian?” She sounded as though she doubted it.

  “Yes, ma’am. You couldn’t tell?” Hayley was disappointed.

  “No. Not really. I mean, of course. Well. What does a lesbian look like? You know. There’s no one answer to that. The stereotypes are wrong.”

  “Oh, I guess I didn’t especially make a point of it. I didn’t even know if you were.”

  “Me? Shit. I’d say it’s pretty obvious.” Merle didn’t appear to be aware she’d just contradicted herself.

  “Well, you’re not exactly wearing a sign. What did you just say about stereotypes?” Hayley gave Merle a mischievous grin and was gratified to see her reflect it. Her earlier sadness was gone, and her eyes sparkled.

  “Righto. Well. See, my friends, Sigrid and Clea, from the other night?” She stopped.

  “Yep. I remember them.”

  “Yeah. They don’t think you’re queer. Sigrid didn’t sense any vibes from you.”

  “What does that mean?” Hayley was truly frustrated now. How in the world would she ever get any women if she didn’t give off the right “vibes”? She not only couldn’t meet lesbians, if she did meet them she clearly couldn’t get them interested in her. Swell.

  “Honestly. I didn’t either when you first came over to see the house.”

  “So why did you agree to me moving in?”

  Merle rolled her eyes. “You have no idea how tough it was to find someone I thought I could live with. You seemed to be a stable, sane woman. At that point, it didn’t matter to me if you were a dyke or not.”

  Hayley flinched at the word “dyke.”

  Merle picked up on her distaste. “I don’t mean that in a derogatory way. It’s just a term we use among ourselves.”

  “Oh. I see. Well. Still glad you decided to have me move in even if you weren’t sure I was a lesbian?” She was an “us.” That was encouraging, but Merle hadn’t answered her original question yet. “Anyhow. Why didn’t you think I was a lesbian when you met me?”

  She sounded a bit demanding, but somehow she didn’t think Merle would mind.

  “Your nails aren’t short and you’re wearing nail polish.”

  Hayley glanced down at her hands. She filed her nails to a decent length. She didn’t have long nails by any means. “My nails? What?”

  “Most lesbians keep their nails really short. Some women wear polish, but the nails…”

  “Huh?” Hayley knew she was missing something.

  “Because of…you know.”

  Merle was actually blushing, which was cute. Then it dawned on Hayley what she was talking about it, and she started to blush too. She ought to have known that. She felt silly.

  “Uh. Yeah. Okay. What else?” Hayley wanted to move the conversation forward because she was getting some disquieting but stimulating images having to do with her hands and Merle.

  “You need to make eye contact and hold it for a while. I mean like zero in and also smile a little at the same time.”

  “You mean I should flirt?”

  “Yes. That’s what I mean. And touch.”

  “I see. Trim the nails more and make eye contact. This is all helpful, but my real problem is meeting women in the first place.” She told Merle the story of the meet-up and the art gallery and all the couples except for Willow, pleased when she elicited a hearty laugh from Merle.

  Merle shook her head and wiped tears from her eyes. “Yeah. That sounds normal. Too many couples and one ineligible.”

  “So what do I do?”

  “Shoot. I don’t know.”

  “Don’t you have any single friends you could introduce me to?”

  “Eh. Not really. If you were an alcoholic, I could take you to meetings that are like bars without the alcohol.”

  “No? Really?”

  “Yes. It’s subtle but it’s there. Wait a minute, I know. You can go out dog walking with me on the weekend. Or you can go by yourself. Around here, a woman with a dog? You’d be a chick magnet. You’re pretty and blond. Oh, and you ought to dress a little more scruffy and yep, I think you might meet some women. Some people might recognize Arthur, but there are a few yellow Labs around so it shouldn’t matter. It’ll still work. The dog walkers are all a friendly lot no matter what sexual orientation you are. And a ton of dykes around here have dogs.”

  “That sounds like it could be fun. Thanks for the suggestion.” Merle thought she was pretty. That made her feel good.

  “Hey, Arthur gets his walk. You’d be doing me a favor.”

  “I’m happy to help out with him. He’s such a sweetheart. Since we’re done with dinner, can he come in the kitchen now?”

  Merle grinned at her, then looked at Arthur and nodded. He bounded in like he’d just been given a longed-for gift. Hayley supposed that was true. He sat down in front of them and looked from one to the other, panting, thumping his tail on the tile.

  “You have her to thank, old boy. Don’t look at me.”

  Arthur duly followed Merle’s glance around to Hayley. He looked liked a love-struck teenager finally allowed to worship his love object from up close instead of from afar. His expression made Hayley laugh, and Merle laughed along with her.

  Chapter Five

  While she got ready for bed, Merle thought about the talk with Hayley. She’d hesitated a microsecond
before saying yes to the dinner invitation. In fact, as soon as she’d agreed, she’d wanted to take it back. But then they sat down to eat and Hayley asked her questions and she answered the questions and before too long they were chatting like old friends. The connection felt good.

  So the burning question of her sexual orientation was answered: she was a lesbian. But it couldn’t have been for very long. It seemed like she was just recently divorced. The picture she was slowly forming of Hayley was still incomplete, but the blank spots were filling in. Not only was her new housemate just coming out, but she was on the make for women. Merle was going to send her out on a busy dog-walking weekend with Arthur in tow, and she would certainly be beset by suitors. Well, Hayley was an adult; she could handle it and would likely have a very good time.

  No doubt, Miley would be first in line to ask the new girl out. She’d also heard Twyla and Lara had recently split. The list of possible women for Hayley to date was virtually endless. It didn’t hurt that the median age of the lesbian population on Bernal skewed a little older. Hayley probably wasn’t in the market for someone young. Or maybe she was. It was silly to even speculate about the subject. Merle tugged her quilt irritably and turned her pillow over. From his dog bed on the floor, Arthur looked up with a soft interrogatory bark and thumped his tail a couple times.

  Maybe she ought not to send Hayley out on her own for her first time on a walk with Arthur. She could probably use some coaching on how to handle Arthur. Even though he was a good walker, he was still an eighty-pound dog. Also, Hayley could probably use a wingman. Merle decided she would go with her. It seemed like a reasonable idea. As she fell asleep, the notion that her motives might be mixed occurred to her, but she dismissed it.

  *

  On Saturday afternoon, they prepared for their dog walk. Following Merle’s advice, Hayley chose an old T-shirt that was just a bit too small because it had shrunk in the dryer. She also found an old sweatshirt and put on her oldest, most ragged jeans and added a San Francisco Giants baseball cap.

 

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