Ordinary is Perfect

by D. Jackson Leigh

  “Fine,” Autumn said, putting it away.

  “Thank you. Now, who wants pie?”

  ***

  Catherine draped a folded quilt over the porch railing. It would be her last night with Gabe for several months, and they’d planned to stay up late to see a meteor shower predicted to show up around midnight. She was studying the sky when Gabe stepped out onto the porch.

  “Hey,” Catherine said. “Ready to do some stargazing?”

  Gabe shuffled her feet and stuffed her hands into the pocket of her jeans. “Um, I wanted to ask something.”

  Catherine stood and rested her hip on the porch’s railing. “Sure. What’s up?”

  More feet-shuffling.

  “Come on, Gabe,” Catherine said, keeping her voice soft. “You know you can ask me anything, don’t you?”

  “I…well, if it’s not okay, will you promise to be honest and say so?”

  Catherine cocked her head. “I promise,” she said, hoping she wouldn’t regret it. What was this about?

  “Maria is on the way to pick up Angel. She said that if I wanted to spend the night with them, she’d make sure I got back here before Autumn wanted to leave.” Gabe’s words came out in a rush, and then she stopped and held Catherine’s gaze. “But I already said I’d look for the meteor shower with you. And I still want to…but I want to go with Angel, too.”

  Catherine was relieved this wasn’t something serious, like Gabe announcing that she just couldn’t go with Autumn. But she was a little disappointed, too. Her feelings must have shown on her face.

  “Never mind. Forget I asked. It’s no big deal.”

  Catherine grabbed Gabe’s arm as she started to go back into the house. “Hold up now.” She draped her arm across Gabe’s shoulders and guided her down the steps and into the yard. Then she pointed to the sky. “See that really bright star?”

  “Is that the North Star?”

  “I think so.” They gazed at it for a few seconds. “The world’s not as big as you’ve imagined it. You’ll be able to see that same star in Atlanta. So, if you get homesick while you’re there, I want you to look at the star and know Angel, Elvis, and I are looking up at the same one.”

  Gabe gave Catherine a sideways glance. “Isn’t that some sappy song from a kids’ movie?”

  Catherine laughed. “I don’t know, but I’m sure you can google it.”

  “And I would want to because…?”

  Catherine grasped Gabe’s nape and gave her a playful shake. “Because if you find it and play it for Angel, she’ll think it’s very sweet.”

  “Oh.” Gabe looked up at the star again. “I hadn’t thought of that.” She turned back to Catherine. “So you think she’d like it?”

  “Hey, I might be old, but I can still teach you a few things about, uh, being a good friend.” Whew. She’d barely caught herself. Gabe was so young. She couldn’t possibly already know she liked girls, could she? Catherine’s brain was frantically reviewing data—what she said, what Gabe said, how Gabe and Angelique interacted—so she was knocked back a step when Gabe slammed into her with the biggest bear hug she’d ever experienced.

  “I love you, Cat.” Gabe’s voice cracked with emotion.

  Catherine returned the hug, holding on for a long minute, then surprising herself by planting a kiss on Gabe’s soft curls. “I love you, too.” Headlights turned from the highway onto Catherine’s long driveway. Maria had arrived to pick up Angelique. “Now go grab some things so you can stay up all night talking with Angel.”

  “You sure?” Gabe still looked uncertain.

  “Positive. You will always have a home here, Gabe…on both these farms. Meteor showers aren’t that rare, and maybe I can talk Autumn into watching this one with me.” She ruffled Gabe’s curls. “Besides, don’t you two need to get your phones set up and test the video calling?”

  The suggestion lit Gabe’s face like fireworks. “Yes. I forgot.” She started for the steps, then turned and body-slammed Catherine with another hug, but this one quick before she stepped back. “Thanks for the phones. They’ll help a lot.”

  “You’re welcome. Actually, it was Autumn’s idea, and she talked me into it. I was going to give you a bunch of gift certificates to Starbucks. Now go get your stuff so you don’t keep Maria waiting.”

  Gabe didn’t have to be told twice. She bounded up the steps and hurtled into the house yelling for Angel. Elvis, who had been watching them from the porch, yipped at Gabe’s excitement and followed her inside, narrowly escaping a tail-caught-in-the-door incident. Catherine flinched when the screen door slammed shut behind Gabe and Elvis. “But don’t slam the door,” she muttered to herself. She eyed the door. “Maybe that’s what happened to the other half of his tail.”

  ***

  “Really. I’ve never seen a meteor shower.” Autumn had so much to do to prepare for their trip tomorrow. She was absolutely anal about organization—making lists, packing and repacking. But when she saw the disappointment on Catherine’s face that she’d hidden until Gabe had left, her to-do list didn’t seem all that important. “When I was a kid, I was too worried about my parents getting busted for drugs and finding something in the house to eat when they forgot to feed me.”

  “But you were here every summer,” Catherine said. She stood with her arms crossed, frowning down at the telescope case.

  “Grandma didn’t know about things like that because she went to bed with the chickens. And Becki, well, the only time she was interested in the stars was when she was mooning over the boy of the week. She never bothered with the science aspect of it.”

  Catherine still seemed unconvinced.

  Autumn laid her hand on Catherine’s arm. “Please?”

  She knew why Catherine was hesitant. They’d spent the past weeks making sure they were never alone together for more than a few minutes. But avoiding their attraction had only ramped it up for Autumn. She was fascinated by the woman she’d first dismissed as nothing more than the stereotypical butch lesbian, because she’d discovered that Catherine Daye was so much more.

  She’d seen Catherine wrestle a calf to the ground to free it from some wire and quiet a huge, skittish draft horse that dragged her halfway across the pasture. Autumn had been terrified, but Catherine was unruffled. She emitted a calm, solid energy that everyone around her drew upon. She’d witnessed Catherine wield an ax with uncanny precision—biceps bulging with the exertion—and then gently cradle a small seedling in her calloused hands to plant it in the dark, rich soil.

  Catherine moved with the smooth grace of a dancer, and, oh boy, Autumn did love to watch her. Especially from behind. She dreamed about her hands on that ass. A lot. Wet dreams that left her so throbbing, she had to take matters into her own hand before she could sleep again.

  And she’d caught Catherine watching her with the same hunger. Only her hunger had an ominous edge Autumn hadn’t been able to figure out. Then other times, a resigned sadness that made Autumn feel fiercely protective replaced that hard edge.

  Most important, when she looked deep into Catherine’s mahogany eyes, Autumn saw deep intelligence and strength of character. She saw a woman who took responsibility for everyone around her—for her neighbor’s kid, for hurt and abandoned animals people brought to her, and for every disabled, orphaned, widowed, and poor person who might need wood for their fireplace, a chicken coop repaired, or a vegetable garden planted to feed their families.

  Autumn met and held Catherine’s dark gaze now, and so much more than words passed between them. “Please, Cat.”

  Those simple words were armed and nuclear. What did Catherine say the military code was for nuclear bombs? Radiant angel. Appropriate. Because this radiant angel between them was going to either take them to heaven or straight to hell.

  Catherine nodded, picking up the hard-shell case that held her telescope and the quilt, and leading her to a door between her bedroom and Gabe’s. Autumn had guessed it to be a half bath, or a storage closet. She was wrong. Wh
en Catherine opened the door, a hidden staircase was revealed. The stairs were narrow and steep, lit only by pencil-thin luminous tubes attached to each stair. Still, she plunged into the gloom, focusing on the sexy ass barely a foot from her face to fight her claustrophobia as they ascended.

  They emerged onto a ten-by-ten platform notched into the steeply slanted roof. It was like a covered porch until Catherine pushed a large button on the wall. The section of enameled tin over them retracted to reveal millions of stars.

  “Wow.” Autumn knew her mouth was hanging open, but she was so stunned she couldn’t close it. No city lights were nearby to fade the blue-ink sky, so she felt as if she were standing among the stars. “Oh, Cat,” she breathed. “This is amazing.” When she walked to the rail-less edge, she reached back for Catherine’s hand to anchor her.

  Catherine stepped close behind Autumn and rested her hands along Autumn’s hips. “I’ve got you.” Her voice was a low burr in Autumn’s ear, her breath warm on Autumn’s neck. Autumn took Catherine’s hands and guided them to embrace rather than steady her as she pressed her back into Catherine’s front. They were a perfect fit.

  “Autumn.” Her name on Catherine’s lips was a halfhearted plea for reprieve, but it wasn’t in her power to grant it. They were both tangled in this inevitable net drawing them together.

  “A night, Catherine. No one here but us. Let us have at least a night.”

  Catherine knew it could never be “just a night” for her. She would relive it forever in her dreams, in her thoughts. Still, she was powerless to refuse.

  She turned Autumn in her arms. Their kiss was slow and gentle, then sensual, and finally hungry. She had spread out the thick quilt while Autumn was stargazing and now guided her onto it.

  “I dream about you almost every night,” Catherine confessed before delving into Autumn’s warm mouth. Their tongues danced and wrestled, lips caressed, teeth nipped. She stroked down Autumn’s side, then slipped her hand under Autumn’s cropped shirt. Autumn wasn’t wearing a bra, and Catherine moaned into their kiss as Autumn’s nipple, hard and hot, scraped against her palm.

  “Off, clothes, off,” Autumn demanded. “I need to feel your skin.”

  Catherine rolled onto her back and shucked off her jeans. Her thighs were soaked with her arousal. When she reached for the hem of her T-shirt, Autumn’s hands on Catherine’s back and the warm breath in her ear stopped her.

  “Let me,” Autumn said, her voice little more than a whisper. “I love how hard and lean you are.” Autumn’s hands were under her shirt, massaging and stroking Catherine’s back. “Your muscles ripple when you move, like a sleek cat.” Kisses along her neck distracted her enough that she missed the warm hands moving along her rib cage and up to cup her breasts. “And I love that your skin is so soft and smooth.” The simultaneous hard pinch to Catherine’s nipples made her hips buck upward.

  “Holy mother.” She clinched her jaw, trying to hold back, to not pop off like a teenager.

  A low chuckle, then Autumn tugging at her shoulders. “Flip over, Cat.”

  Autumn had straddled Catherine from behind, so when Catherine turned over, she was between her legs. Autumn spread her thighs wide, pulled Catherine to her. They were both so wet that they slicked together. Catherine trembled with the effort to hold back, and when Autumn raised her knees and dug her heels into Catherine’s ass, urging her thrusts faster and harder, she lost it. Autumn’s cry rang out over Catherine’s growl of release. The muscles of her abdomen drew taut, and her vision flashed white. Her hips bucked through the waves of her orgasm, but it wasn’t enough. Catherine pulled back enough to slide one, then two long fingers into Autumn to stroke the rough spot inside as she thrust against the back of her own hand.

  “Oh God, oh God. Like that. Yes.” Autumn arched up, wrapping her legs around Catherine’s waist. “Another. One more.”

  Catherine pulled back to shove a third finger into Autumn. She drove hard, and her clit stiffened again against the back of her hand. Autumn’s eyes widened, and she let out a scream as she clamped down on Catherine’s fingers. Catherine pumped into her until Autumn grabbed her wrist and let her legs drop to the quilt.

  “Enough. I think you fried all my brain circuits.”

  Catherine withdrew her fingers slowly, then rolled onto her back. Autumn cuddled against her side, resting her head on Catherine’s shoulder. Catherine idly stroked her fingertips along Autumn’s hip while Autumn used her fingers to trace random patterns on Catherine’s belly.

  “Cat?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Are you purring?”

  Her low chuckle rumbled up through her chest. “I don’t think so.”

  “Then we need to change that.”

  Before Catherine could respond, Autumn was sliding down her body and pushing Catherine’s legs apart. “May I taste you?”

  “Christ, yes.” Catherine bent one knee to give Autumn better access.

  Autumn’s tongue was hot and skilled. She lapped at Catherine’s thighs before moving to her sex. Catherine rested her left hand on Autumn’s head, her hand trembling when Autumn found that sweet spot on her clit too sensitive to touch, but too pleasurable to abandon. Catherine gasped, tension gathering in her belly. And when Autumn raked her teeth across her clit and sucked hard, Catherine gave it up with a roar. Her next comprehension was Autumn crawling up her body, dropping kisses across her belly, on both of her nipples, and, finally, sucking at Catherine’s pulse point.

  Catherine shivered through an aftershock. “That was…that was…I don’t have words for it. Amazing, award-winning, a definite do-it-again…” She realized her mistake. Autumn had asked for only a night.

  They were quiet for few seconds. “We’ve got time, Cat. The rest of the night. We can do anything you want,” Autumn said, brushing back the hair from Catherine’s face. “But either I felt a drop of rain or some bird just urinated on me.”

  At that moment, a deluge was soaking them. Catherine slapped the button to return the roof, and they ran for the stairs.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Autumn rubbed the spot on her forehead that she was sure had a spike sticking out of it. “No, really, Cat. The guidance counselor said they have a conference room set up for video chat especially for parent-teacher meetings.”

  They both were relieved when Gabe made two friends the first week she was in her new school. They weren’t surprised that one was a baby butch like Gabe. But Autumn was pretty sure the other kid was a trans girl. Catherine was surprised, but Autumn only shook her head. “Don’t you ever watch television?”

  “I watch the weather news every day.”

  “Do you even have a Facebook page?”

  “Why would I need one?”

  “That’s how you keep up with friends and family.”

  Even several hundred miles away and video-chatting on her cell phone, she could see Catherine’s expression turn stony. “I don’t have any family that I care to keep track of.”

  Autumn started to ask about friends Catherine had in the service but caught herself. That could trigger her nightmares again. Instead, she raised her eyebrow. “What about me and Gabe? I like to think the three of us are a weird little family.”

  Catherine’s smile returned, and she slapped her forehead. “I wondered why you people are calling me all the time. That would explain it.”

  Autumn laughed. “Hey, do I need to phone Janet, our social worker, and get a copy of the legal paperwork to prove it?” They’d had only that one night, and they hadn’t talked about it since. But something had changed between them. She’d finally gotten Catherine to download a video chat app on her phone…so she could talk to Gabe, of course. So what if she and Catherine called and chatted on the app for at least a few minutes almost every day under the pretense of keeping Catherine informed about Gabe? She was delighted to find out that Catherine actually had a snarky side when she let her guard down.

  Catherine smiled. “Nah. Having a weird family is sort
of nice.” Her smile faded, and she glanced nervously off-camera. “I mean, it’s never boring.”

  Autumn’s heart soared at the small, unintended confession. Then, just as quickly, it dropped. They’d never be a real family. She’d done some research on PTSD, and it wasn’t like the flu. Some soldiers or survivors of violence or tragedy were never able to break free of it completely. The city wasn’t good for Catherine now, and Autumn didn’t hold out hope that it ever would be.

  “You’re right. Anyway, I’ve got to get back to work. I’ll go to the school, and we’ll dial you into the conversation. I’ll send you an Evite so all you’ll have to do is click on yes. It’ll send you reminders, and you’ll click on the calendar item to pull up the Evite, then click on ‘log into meeting.’”

  “I’ll write it on my kitchen calendar, too,” Catherine said.

  Autumn shook her head and heaved an intentionally audible sigh. “Of course. Write it on your kitchen calendar.” The local feed-and-seed store printed cheap calendars that almost every farmer had tacked up in their kitchen. Each month hung under a farm-scene-of-the-month photo contained small nuggets of agriculture news, such as information about a new breed of livestock or a reminder that it was the month to winterize the hayfields by spreading lime to encourage the roots of the grass to grow. Catherine, of course, lived by it, but Autumn knew she had mentioned it as a tease because of Autumn’s frustration with her avoidance of new technology. “Oh, and one last thing—promise me you won’t go all ballistic on the teacher if she says anything negative about Gabe.” Autumn wanted to laugh at Catherine’s instantly defensive facial expression.

  “Why? Have they been saying things about Gabe, making her feel different, and you haven’t told me about it? Because if they’ve been letting someone bully her, I’ll come beat the little turd’s butt myself.”

  “Calm down. You know Gabe’s not perfect, but I haven’t been keeping anything from you. You know everything I know about Gabe.”