CHAPTER 6
She was going to ask her out. No, that wasn’t right. Her friends had told her to ask her out, but she hadn’t. Hillary hadn’t asked her out. Now, she wouldn’t, because Amara was her student. None of that mattered. Amara was with Mark. They were a couple. They had a date tonight. She dressed in jeans and a plain white shirt with a navy blazer over it. She wore navy flats and pinned her hair back again, as the long day had caused several strays that required management.
Mark arrived on time, as usual, and met her at the door to the pool house. He greeted her with his customary kiss on the cheek, and instead of walking around the outside of her father’s house to his car, he walked her inside. They encountered her father in the kitchen, pouring himself a glass of his favored 2% milk.
“Hello, dear,” he greeted her and smoothed back his salt and pepper hair. “I was just pouring myself a drink,” he joked. “Would you two care for one before your night out?”
“I think I’ve hit my milk limit for the day,” she teased back. “We won’t be late.”
“Mark, when you return, join me in my study, and we can talk for a bit.” He took a drink of his milk, leaving a mustache in its wake.
“Yes, sir,” Mark said with a smile and took her hand.
Dinner was nice, or at least it would have been if Amara had been able to think of anything other than Hillary and the fact that she’d thought about asking her out on a date. She could have gone on a date with a woman. Hillary could be sitting across from her right now. Instead, she was listening to Mark talk about how much he’d enjoyed meeting with the former youth pastor earlier in the day to discuss his future role and the changes he’d like to make if they could raise enough money.
When Mark dropped her at home, he kissed her gently on the lips and headed into her father’s study, while Amara went back to her pool house. She showered and changed before pulling out her computer, putting it into incognito mode, and searching the name: Hillary Robins. She found Hillary’s web page for the university and the list of her classes. She skimmed over that information before moving onto a few scholarly articles that Hillary had written. Several of them focused on human sexuality. One of them she found particularly interesting – focused on bisexuality and how people perceived it versus the reality of being bisexual. From what Amara could tell, Hillary was clearly a talented writer. She seemed to have a way of conveying her message without attacking anyone with an opposing view.
By the time Amara had finished reading, it was late. She knew she should put her computer away and get some sleep, but she just couldn’t get the thoughts of Hillary out of her mind. She pictured the woman sitting across from her – as Mark had been tonight; talking about something interesting, like gender representations in media. Then, she wondered what it would have been like if Hillary were the one to drop her off at the door. Would this woman have kissed her chastely and left to speak with her father, or would she have kissed Amara with passion, like she’d never been kissed before? Maybe they’d come into the pool house and make their way to her bedroom. Hillary would move her to the bed and climb on top of her.
Amara’s heart began to race at the thought of Hillary lowering her hips into her as she wrapped her own arms around Hillary’s back and encouraged their lips to remain connected. She closed her computer and pushed it aside before she moved under the blanket and slid her hand under her shorts and into her underwear to stroke herself to the thoughts of Hillary’s hand being there instead. She fantasized about her moving fast and hard, and stroked herself at a matching pace before she thought about Hillary wanting to make her come, softly and gently. She slowed her fingers and came with the thought of Hillary sliding her fingers inside her.
◆◆◆
“Wait a minute… Your mystery woman, Amara, is in one of your classes?”
Keira sat on the sofa in her office at Worthy Bash, her event planning business.
“She is. I am so stupid,” Hillary said and took a bite of her salad with vinaigrette dressing on the side, wishing it was a juicy hamburger with a mountain of cheese and bacon.
“Why are you stupid?” Keira pushed aside the croutons on her own salad before placing it on the table in front of them. “Next time, I’m picking lunch.”
“Because I finally talked to her. I told her I’d thought about asking her out. Literally – I officially met the woman and, thirty seconds later, I’m telling her that you guys had been encouraging me to ask her out.”
“What’s wrong with that? I think it’s cute.”
“It would have been cute had she not looked completely mortified.”
“Mortified?” Keira was trying to hold in a laugh. “Come on, Hill.”
“She was in shock, at least.”
“That I think you can understand.”
“How so?” Hillary moved her own half-eaten salad to the table and turned to Keira on the sofa.
“I’ve watched you get asked out before.”
“What? When?”
“By Indy, at After Dark.”
Indy was a bartender Keira had worked with in the past. She was also a woman who loved her hookups and had no plans to settle down. When she’d flirted with Hillary a few months ago, Hillary hadn’t given her anything back; she wasn’t planning on being another woman on Indy’s list. She did think the woman funny and enjoyed what little time they’d spent chatting, but she saw Indy only as a friend.
“Indy doesn’t count.”
“Why not?” Keira laughed. “She’s a woman, and she asked you out on a date. You basically coiled up like a snake, said all of three words to her, and marched off toward some exhibit at After Dark.”
“She wanted to sleep with me.”
“That’s typically how dating works, Hill. You meet someone, go on a date with them, and at some point, you have sex with them.” She lifted an eyebrow. “I haven’t been married all that long. Have things changed since I was single?”
“Sometimes, I don’t like your humor.” Hillary rolled her eyes. “And I’ll have you know, two people have asked me out on dates this week. I said yes to both.”
“I’m sorry, I think you buried the lead here.” Keira turned all the way toward her. “You have two dates, and neither of them is with Amara?”
“Yes, I do.”
“How did this happen exactly?”
Hillary told her about Nathaniel but left out how they’d met. Then, she told her about Lucy in the coffee shop, and how she’d agreed to go out with her on Friday night and with Nathaniel on Saturday night.
“I guess I have a busy week, with After Dark tonight,” Hillary remarked.
They still continued their monthly visits to the museum, even with the changing group of people who attended. It had started as a fun thing she, Keira, and Greene had done. Later, Kellan had joined them. Now, it was Keira and her wife with Greene and her girlfriend, while Hillary so rarely had a date of her own.
“Lucy asked you out at the café?”
“Yeah.”
“Was Amara there?”
“At her usual table.”
“Maybe that threw her off? Maybe seeing you get asked out by another woman looked strange or something.”
“I doubt she could hear anything,” Hillary pointed out.
“It’s pretty easy to notice someone flirting with someone else from across a small café, Hill. I’m sure it was discouraging.”
“Discouraging? Keira, she’s had close to fifty chances to ask me out, and she hasn’t done so. Maybe you guys should just drop the whole thing.”
“You’ve had over fifty chances to ask her out, and you didn’t do it either, Hill. We all knew you wanted to.”
“I’m not good at this stuff.”
“You could be. Man, Caroline really did do a number on you, didn’t she?” Keira suggested.
Keira had no idea. Hillary didn’t think this was the time to tell her about the words Caroline had used toward the end of their relationship. She’d taken a massive loss in
confidence even before that. She’d never been the most beautiful woman in the room. She’d watched both boys and girls hit on her friends over the years. It was one of the reasons she’d finally decided to get healthy: she wanted to look better, but it was more about the feeling better about herself part that mattered to her.
“It doesn’t matter; she’s my student now.”
“She doesn’t look like she should be in college.”
“The times have changed, Keira. College isn’t just for the eighteen-year-olds anymore. I have people in my classes that are older than me.”
“She’s probably in her mid to late twenties, wouldn’t you say?” Keira asked.
“I guess.”
“And you’re in your mid-thirties. You’re both grown ass women; if you wanted to see each other outside the classroom, I think you’d be able to figure out the logistics.”
“It doesn’t matter; she couldn’t get out of the room fast enough,” Hillary reminded her. “She’s not interested.”
“There’s no way we could have gotten that wrong, Hill. I’ve never seen someone stare at someone else like that and not be interested in them.”
“I should get back to campus. I’ll see you tonight.”
“Hill, come on. We can talk about this some more, come up with a plan; maybe invite her to After Dark as a friend.”
Hillary boxed up her salad and stood.
“It’s okay. I’m looking forward to my dates this weekend. One of them has to go well, right?”
That night, at After Dark, she watched Indy flirt with at least three women from behind the bar she worked weekly. She saw how happy Greene and Joanna were when they all went up to the rooftop to take in the bay at night. Greene stood behind her girlfriend, wrapped her arms around her waist, and whispered things into her ear that made Joanna laugh. She watched Emma and Keira play some game about communication together, where one of them had to instruct the other how to put pieces into a pattern and the other couldn’t see what they were doing. They laughed through most of it. Emma seemed so surprised that Keira had interpreted her instructions so incorrectly. They smiled and laughed as Emma rubbed Keira’s shoulders. Hillary mostly took long drinks of her wine and watched them enjoying their relationships while she thought of Amara.
CHAPTER 7
“Have you called Mrs. Morrison back to reschedule her meeting?” her father asked as he approached her desk.
“I put the new appointment on your calendar for next Wednesday,” she replied.
“I planned on being out on Wednesday. I’m visiting the women’s shelter,” he told her with a slight scowl on his face. “I told you that.”
“No, you didn’t, Dad. I would have put that on your calendar.”
“Can you call her back and ask her to change it to Thursday?”
“Sure. I’ll call her after lunch.” Amara made a note on a post-it.
“Is Mark taking you someplace nice?”
“I brought lunch today. He’s taking me out to dinner tonight, though. We’re going to Mastriani’s.”
“That is someplace nice.”
“It’s our three-month anniversary.”
She hadn’t realized they’d been together that long nor had she thought to celebrate a three-month anniversary. She’d thought it had been two months for sure, until she’d gone back to the calendar on her desk and recalled the first time she’d met Mark. He’d been right. It had been three months of chaste kisses on cheeks and lips and hand-holding to and from nice restaurants. Mark hadn’t even slept over at her place; he’d never invited her to spend the night at his. It was, at most, one step above friendship, even though Mark loved her.
“He starts in his new role officially on Monday. We’re very lucky to have him.”
“Yes, we are.” Amara smiled up at her father. “I should heat up my soup.” She stood.
“After my sermon on Sunday, I think the three of us should have lunch together.”
“Okay.”
“We can talk about the future.” He smiled confidently.
She wondered about whose future they’d be discussing exactly. Her father and Mark had been spending more time together lately than she and Mark. Despite Mark telling her that he was willing to wait for her to be ready to say those words to him and take the steps that come after, she wasn’t so sure he’d be that patient if her father had a say in the matter. Unfortunately, her father had a say in many matters of her life. While she loved the old man, and he’d never treated her poorly, she also wanted her own life and the ability to make her own decisions.
◆◆◆
“Your father and I were talking,” Mark began.
Amara heard that same sentence at least once every few days from the guy.
“He mentioned expanding the pool house,” Mark elaborated.
“My pool house?” she questioned.
“Yes. He thought it was time it was made into a proper house. It’s so small, Amara.”
“It’s fine for me.”
“His thoughts were more about the future. He has that land behind it that’s blocked off by the fence; it’s another quarter acre. He thought you might want to move into the main house for a while, and they’d get the work done. He still has to have plans drawn up and hire the crews. It’s not something you’d have to do immediately.”
“I don’t want to move into the main house.”
“It’s temporary,” Mark added and took a drink of his iced tea.
“Who is this new house for exactly?” she asked with bile rising in her throat.
“For you.”
“And?”
“And your future family.” He recognized her tone. “Amara, your father wants to build us a house on the property. It would be our home.”
“We’ve been together for three months, Mark.”
“If you’re not ready to talk about this, we don’t have to. We can celebrate our anniversary,” he deflected.
“And when will I come home to find that my things are gone from the pool house and there’s a wrecking ball tearing it down?”
“Amara, it was only an idea. If you–”
“I don’t,” she finished his sentence for him. “Mark, I don’t want a giant house built on my father’s property.”
“He mentioned it. I’m sorry. I thought it was a good idea; homes are so expensive. He wants to give this to–”
“Us?” She let out an exasperated sigh and uncoiled the fists that had formed when this conversation had started. “Mark, there is no us.”
“The house wouldn’t be in my name, Amara; it would be in your name. It would be your house until–”
“We got married?” She pushed back her chair. “Mark, can you take me home? I suddenly have the urge to talk to my father.”
“Let’s enjoy our meal and celebrate.”
“Mark, I’m sorry, but I don’t think I can do this.” She stood.
“Do what?”
“Please take me home.”
They drove in silence. When they arrived at her father’s house, she didn’t wait for Mark to open the car door for her.
“Amara, wait.” He followed her toward the house.
“Mark, I need to talk to my father alone. I will see you at the church on Monday.” She closed the door behind him and went in search of her father. “Dad?” she yelled.
She made her way up the stairs toward his study. She flung open the door and found him sitting behind his desk, likely preparing his sermon.
“Amara, you’re home early.”
“Dad, you can’t keep doing this.”
“Doing what?” He tossed his glasses onto the pages in front of him. “Where’s Mark?”
“Mark is on his way home.” She moved inside the office but did not sit down. “Dad, I don’t love him.”
“Mark?”
“Yes, Mark. I don’t love him. He’s a nice man, but I don’t want to marry him. I don’t want a giant house in your backyard where he and I will raise a family.”
“Then, why did you tell Mark about it and not me?”
“He spoke out of turn, dear. He and I had planned to bring it up to you on Sunday, at lunch.”
“Dad, that’s still wrong. If you wanted to build me a house that’s just mine, you should have asked me if that’s what I wanted first. You should have consulted me and not him.”
“I get your point. I’m sorry, honey.” He motioned for her to sit in the chair, but she remained standing. “You’re right, and I apologize. I misunderstood your feelings for Mark, sweetheart. I thought you two were serious and on your way to something.”
“I don’t love him,” she repeated.
“And you don’t think you will?”
“No.” She gulped and wanted to add to that, but she couldn’t. “I won’t.”
“Have you told him?”
“I don’t think he understood when I tried,” she admitted.
“Then, you need to make sure he understands, Amara. He loves you. It’s not fair to him if you don’t feel the same way.”
“I know.” She sat in the chair, and her father joined her in the other. “Dad, what if I never love someone? What if I end up alone?”
“What makes you ask this?”
“What if I fall in love with someone you don’t expect? Someone that doesn’t go to church every week, or maybe doesn’t believe the things you believe?”
“Is there someone else? Have you been dating someone while you’ve been seeing him?”
“No.” Amara placed her hand on her dad’s forearm. “No, I wouldn’t do that to him, or to anyone else.”
“So, this is a hypothetical conversation?”
“Yes.”
“I raised you to be loyal to your family and your faith.”
“I know.” Amara hung her head.
“I don’t know what I’d think or do if you brought someone home who didn’t support that faith or participate in it with you,” he answered.
San Francisco Series- Complete Edition Page 68