“Oh, I noticed you,” Hillary argued. “I really noticed you.”
“You did?”
“You wore yellow that day, and your hair was up in a ponytail.” She rubbed her thumb over Amara’s skin.
“You remember that?”
“Of course, I do.”
The ship detached from the dock. The captain gave the requisite instructions regarding rules and safety. Hillary and Amara could only listen as they stared at one another. Once the captain had finished, the tour began, with him offering commentary as the ship moved through the water.
“What got you into women’s studies?” Amara asked as she snacked on a roast beef slider.
“I’ve always been interested in people and the study of them. I studied sociology and chose women’s studies for my graduate work because I think it’s a topic worth constant discussion. What made you want to take the class?”
“I was enrolled in an accounting course, because I thought it would help me at my job. But, to be honest, I was bored to tears.”
Hillary laughed and took a bite of the healthiest appetizer she could find.
“I can understand that.”
“I looked through the course catalog for something to replace it. I came across your class. I’m only going part-time; that’s why it’s taking me so long.”
“So long? How old are you exactly? I just realized I have no idea.”
“And you’re worried you might rob the cradle?” Amara smirked. “I’m twenty-six. I’ll be twenty-seven next month.”
“I’m thirty-four,” Hillary said.
“Then, neither of us is robbing a cradle,” Amara said.
“Does it bother you?” Hillary asked.
“What? Your age?”
“I’m older than you by almost eight years.” Hillary shrugged.
“If me being younger than you by almost eight years doesn’t bother you, then I am also unbothered.” Amara finished her small sandwich and glanced out over the water. “It’s so beautiful where we live, isn’t it?”
“Especially at sunset.”
“Have you ever walked across it?” Amara asked and nodded toward the Golden Gate.
“I’ve run across it a few times.”
“You have?”
“I work out five or six days a week, usually. The gym can get tedious. I’ve taken to running outside when I get bored. I’ve run the bridge maybe three or four times, spent some time in Sausalito, and walked back.”
“I’ve never even walked across it, and you’re running?” She chuckled.
“We can walk across it this weekend if you’re free,” Hillary suggested.
“I can’t Sunday,” Amara replied.
Her smile, that had been plastered to her face the whole of the night, disappeared.
“Saturday?”
“I can if it’s later in the day. I have lunch with my dad.”
“Around sunset then?” Hillary took in the dark oranges and purples of the sky around them. “We can meet on our side and walk to Sausalito, grab dinner, and walk back.”
“That sounds wonderful.” Amara’s smile returned.
CHAPTER 11
Amara was on a date with a woman. Hillary had taken her hand as they walked along the side of the ship in a circle and talked about random things, the sights around them, and the people aboard their ship. Hillary’s hand felt remarkably soft in her own, and their fingers were linked. She’d held hands with female friends in the past, but she’d never mingled her fingers with any of them in the way she was with Hillary now.
The music was still playing, and there was a lull in the captain’s commentary, which was appreciated because as much as she wanted to hear about the sights of the bay, she really just wanted to talk to Hillary and not hear a loud male voice in between every sentence. The appetizers had long since stopped arriving on the upper deck. Despite that and the chill in the night air, neither had made any suggestion to move downstairs to go inside. They were only a few minutes away from arriving back at Fisherman’s Wharf, and that meant this part of their date would be ending. They’d talked about so much and yet, it seemed, so little at the same time.
Hillary talked a little about her upbringing in the bay area and how she’d been a nerd in school with few friends. Amara wasn’t sure how that was possible, because everyone should want to be friends with Hillary. They spoke about how Amara worked as an administrator in a church office, but Amara had left out that her father was the head pastor and her grandfather had founded the church and helped build it with his own hands. They avoided some of the more difficult topics to discuss, and Amara was glad for it, because she wasn’t sure how she’d respond if Hillary asked her about how she came out or when she realized she was gay. They’d left it at the surface stuff. That was fine for tonight. She was more than content just holding Hillary’s hand as they walked around the ship.
“Yes!”
A voice rang out, and they both turned to see a man down on his knee and a woman in front of him with both of her hands now over her mouth.
“Well, that’s unexpected,” Hillary said.
“He proposed. That’s so romantic.” Amara smiled at the couple who were now embracing.
“Do you think he wanted to do it earlier but was too nervous, so he waited until the last minute?” Hillary leaned in and whispered in her ear. “Maybe he was worried she’d say no, and he’d be stuck on the ship with her for two hours if he did it too soon.”
Amara tried hard not to shiver at the feel and sound of Hillary’s whispers.
“I don’t know. I think he knew she was going to say yes. They both seem so happy for him to have just guessed.”
“They do seem happy,” Hillary agreed. “Do you want that?”
“Want what?” She turned to Hillary in surprise at the question.
“To get married one day.”
For a moment, she’d wondered if Hillary was asking her if she wanted a husband or to be proposed to on a sunset cruise by a man who would then twirl her around in the air.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she answered honestly.
This was one of those big topics they hadn’t discussed. She’d been happy about that. She knew she wanted one person for the rest of her life, but she felt like she had so much growing to do before she’d consider marrying someone. She also had to figure out if she could be honest with herself about that picture: she didn’t want a man down on one knee; she wanted a woman to hold her and maybe just whisper in her ear that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with her. That would be enough for Amara.
The man and woman never ceased their embrace. After a soft round of applause from the other passengers, they seemed to sway naturally into a dance at the slow, melodic trumpet that started the next song over the ship’s speakers. Several people seemed to watch them and smile at their happiness before another man turned to the woman next to him, and they began dancing as well. It happened organically. Three more couples joined in while other passengers either watched or went back to enjoying the cruise.
“Dance with me?” Hillary whispered again.
Amara’s eyes met Hillary’s, and she froze. She’d never danced with a woman before. She had no idea how that worked. She’d seen movies and TV shows where women danced together. It seemed to work itself out naturally. One woman’s arms went around the other woman’s neck, and the other placed her arms around a waist. They’d hold one another, and the steps just happened.
She nodded without words because she wanted to dance with Hillary. She worried for a moment that she might be bad at it or that she wouldn’t know where to put her hands, but Hillary smiled at her and moved into her space. Hillary was slightly shorter than her, but not by much. Amara kept her arms at her sides to see what Hillary would do first, and when Hillary draped her arms around Amara’s neck, Amara’s moved on their own to Hillary’s hips. She held them still there while Hillary’s hands linked at the back of her neck and pulled her closer. She exhaled as she moved her hand
s around to the small of Hillary’s back and linked them there. Their bodies were pressed against one another. She could only hope that the jacket she still had on along with Hillary’s jacket would prevent the other woman from feeling the pounding of her nervous heart.
“We’re not exactly dancing,” Amara managed to get out between thunderous heartbeats.
Their feet had yet to move as they held onto one another. Hillary’s eyes locked onto Amara’s before flitting down to her lips and then moving back up to her eyes. Amara was worried Hillary might kiss her. She’d known that would be a possibility, but that possibility was turning into a reality if the way Hillary’s eyes had darkened was any indication.
“I don’t mind just standing here like this,” Hillary said.
Amara took the initiative and moved her feet slightly to the right. Hillary smiled at her and followed. Amara was leading; she was dancing with a woman, and she was leading. The captain’s commentary interrupted, but she didn’t care. Hillary’s head moved to her shoulder. Amara could feel the woman’s hot breath on her neck, and she knew it then. She knew it, and while she wasn’t ready to give voice to it, with Hillary in her arms, she could at least finally admit it to herself: she was gay. She was beyond gay. She laughed silently as she tightened her grip on Hillary and continued to step side to side, as if that could really be called dancing.
“This feels nice,” Amara whispered as she rested her head on Hillary’s shoulder.
“It does,” Hillary agreed.
“I’m not much of a dancer if you hadn’t guessed.” She let out a short, soft laugh.
Hillary’s hands began to work at her neck by rubbing it and alternating her touches with twists of Amara’s hair. She’d never had someone play with her hair like this. It was a remarkable sensation when paired with the rubs of Hillary’s fingers against her skin.
“I didn’t really care about dancing. I’ve just wanted to hold you like this all night, and that guy gave me an opportunity,” Hillary revealed. “I should thank him before we leave.”
Amara chuckled and rubbed her hands over Hillary’s jacket, wishing it was her skin that she was touching. She’d danced with boys in high school and at church dances. She’d taken a previous boyfriend to a relative’s wedding, and they’d danced there. She’d done so because it had been expected of her each time. This was the first time she was dancing with someone because she wanted to; and it was right.
“I guess I should thank him, too,” Amara said after a moment.
The song came to an end when the ship docked. The cruise was over. Amara stilled her hands on Hillary’s back and prepared for the disappointment when the woman would pull away, but Hillary didn’t pull away. Instead, Hillary pressed her lips to Amara’s throat and then hovered over the spot for a moment. Amara worried she might pass out from the feel of lips on her neck, so she gripped Hillary hard to help keep herself steady more than anything else.
“Thank you for the dance,” Hillary whispered into her ear.
She pulled away a few moments later, when passengers began to move downstairs. Amara looked down because she couldn’t chance looking into Hillary’s eyes right now. If she did, she was certain Hillary would know things about her she wasn’t ready to reveal. It made no sense; she knew that logically, but she couldn’t help it. Hillary took her hand and squeezed it before she gave it a slight tug, and they began walking toward the stairs. They made their way down the ramp and back onto dry land. Amara watched the man who had just proposed hug his new fiancée and then pull back.
“Thank you,” Amara voiced to him.
He turned to check to see that she was speaking to him, and the expression of utter confusion on his face caused her and Hillary to both burst into laughter.
◆◆◆
“Do you want to stay for coffee?” Hillary asked her when they entered her apartment.
“I shouldn’t. I have to work tomorrow, and coffee keeps me up,” she replied.
“I don’t have decaf.” Hillary’s face showed deep thought, and Amara thought she was adorable for about the tenth time that night. “I have wine, though.”
“I don’t really drink,” Amara said. “Not often.”
“Can I ask you something?” Hillary removed her jacket and hung it in the closet before returning her attention to Amara.
“Sure.” Amara’s heart thundered with worry this time.
“I shouldn’t; it’s confidential.”
“What is?”
“Al-Anon.”
“Oh.” Amara hadn’t ever expected that to come out of Hillary’s mouth. Most people didn’t even know what Al-Anon was. “You–”
“I go to meetings sometimes. I saw you there a couple of weeks ago.”
“I work at the church next door,” Amara started. “The meetings have been held there in the past, but we moved them to the building next door while some stuff got renovated and moved around.”
“So, it’s a part of your job?” Hillary motioned to her jacket. “Want me to take that?”
“No, I’m not staying long.” Amara hoped it didn’t sound too harsh. “It’s a part of my job, yes.”
She left it at that and was hoping Hillary wouldn’t say anything else. She didn’t want to have to explain that it wasn’t technically a part of her responsibilities at the church; she’d been helping out Mark with the meetings here and there.
“Oh. Got it.” Hillary took a step backward. “Let me just get your flowers for you then, and you can go.”
“Hillary, I didn’t mean it like a brush off.” She took a step toward the woman she’d just spent the most incredible night with. “It’ll take me some time to drive home, and I do have to work tomorrow.”
“I get it,” Hillary affirmed, but Amara wasn’t sure she actually did. “I’ll get the flowers.”
She moved into the kitchen and returned moments later with the flowers she’d bought her.
“Thank you.”
Hillary handed them to her and replied, “I guess this is good night.”
“I’ll see you Saturday, though, right?”
“Sure.”
The woman didn’t sound confident; she sounded disappointed. Amara was disappointed, too, because she didn’t want the night to end like this. She didn’t want Hillary to think she hadn’t had a good time or that she didn’t want more from the evening.
“I’m doing this wrong.” Amara held up the flowers. “You planned this perfect night for us, and it’s ending now because I’m doing this wrong.”
“What happened?” Hillary questioned.
“I don’t have a lot of experience with this. I’m not great at dating; which I’m sure is not a surprise to you since I stared at you forever and you’re the one that actually asked me out.”
“And that took me about a year.” Hillary smiled. “We’re both bad at dating, I guess.”
“But I do want to go out with you again.”
“I want to go out with you again, too.”
“So, can we just say we had an amazing night together? I’ll head home, and we can walk across the bridge?”
Hillary moved into her. Amara hated to admit it, but she was glad for the bouquet of flowers she held between them. As much as she wanted to kiss Hillary tonight, she didn’t think she was ready for her first kiss with a woman. She felt like she owed so much more to Hillary before they kissed for the first time. The truth of her lack of experience with women, for example, was something she felt she should share, but also the fact that she wasn’t out in any capacity. She worried that someone like Hillary, someone that taught women’s studies, might have a problem dating someone that wasn’t out or wasn’t sure if they could ever come out.
Hillary ran her hand along Amara’s cheek. Her eyes followed her hand as she rested it on Amara’s neck. She inhaled deeply and then exhaled the air she’d just taken in before she leaned in and pressed her lips to Amara’s cheek. That was when the fear of being kissed was outweighed by the disappointment of not being ki
ssed. Amara smiled when she pulled back, but she was certain it hadn’t met her eyes. They exchanged good nights, and she left the apartment. With every step she took, the disappointment of not being able to tell Hillary whole truth, to allow herself to be kissed by a woman she was interested in, and to finally be happy as herself and not as someone others wanted her to be, grew.
CHAPTER 12
Hillary taught her only Friday class and returned to her office after lunch to work on the paper she planned on publishing. She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Amara all day, and she wouldn’t see her until Saturday afternoon. She still had a whole day to get through before she’d get to see that smile and touch her hand. She’d wanted to touch more than just her hand last night, but she hadn’t wanted to push.
When they’d arrived back at her apartment, she hadn’t hesitated to invite Amara inside. She wanted to sit down on the couch and talk more about their lives, share their experiences, their funny moments and misadventures, and possibly to capture those lips she’d been craving forever. The date had gone better than she’d hoped all night. She probably shouldn’t have brought up Al-Anon; it was at that moment that the woman had pulled away. Amara had mentioned that she didn’t drink, and for some reason, Hillary had wanted to press that comment. It was a stupid move. It had likely cost her at least a first kiss.
Her phone rang. She glanced at the screen, before stopping her work, and decided to answer after not returning a couple of text messages from that morning.
“Hey, Lucy.”
“Hey, hard-to-get-a-hold-of lady,” Lucy joked.
“I saw your texts. Sorry, I was in class this morning. Just got to my office.”
“I’ve been busy at work this week, too. I was wondering – and maybe kind of hoping – you’d want to go out with me again this weekend.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Lucy chuckled. “Unless you don’t want to.”
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