Bouncing (26 page)

Slinging her briefcase under the desk in her bedroom, Brit slipped out of her sweat suit and pulled on a tattered old sweatshirt and her most comfortable faded jeans. Her fuzzy slippers came next, and then she wandered into the kitchen. The apartment was small but modern, and the kitchen was large enough to accommodate a table and four chairs, which gave her plenty of work surface for baking. Even if she didn’t have enough closet space in the bedroom, the kitchen worked out well.

Alex made Brit promise not to start without her, and so instead, she just put all the ingredients they’d need onto the table. They’d make the dough first and let it chill while they mixed the pumpkin and peeled apples for the two pies they’d serve for dessert. Brit had bought a few extra apples and planned tarts to share with Alex that night. Before the pies went in, though, Brit planned to broil a chicken breast for their dinner.

She’d read everything she could find about AS, and as it turned out, Alex actually was eating a very good diet. Even though she lacked cooking skills, she consumed tons of fruit and veggies and avoided red meat and sugar. Her famous peanut-butter sandwiches were a good source of protein. Tonight’s menu of chicken Caesar salad was perfect.

Sharing dinner had been one of the best parts of their time together in the weeks since they’d returned from Rehoboth. Alex wasn’t a fussy eater, so after practice they’d go back to one of their apartments and Brit would cook something simple, focusing on veggies and minimizing meat. Alex actually liked helping in the kitchen, not just with the cleanup, and they worked together well. They’d analyze their players and talk strategy while they cooked and cleaned up. Inevitably they’d end up on the couch or in bed, kissing and watching television. Most nights, they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

Opening the refrigerator door, Brit retrieved their chicken and put it under the broiler. Just as she was setting the oven timer, she heard Alex using her newly minted key. Brit peeked into the living room and studied her as she took off her coat and hung it on the tree beside the door. “Hi,” Alex said as she closed the door behind her, and Brit marveled that one simple word, spoken by the right woman, could cause such havoc to her senses. She strode quickly across the living room and into the kitchen, where Brit stood with her hands in the air beside her. She puckered her lips. “Kiss me, please, but don’t touch me. I’m full of chicken.”

Alex followed directions and placed a chaste kiss on Brit’s lips. “Hi,” Brit said. “Let me clean up.” She turned toward the sink. Alex was right behind her, and with her arms wrapped around Brit’s waist she kissed the back of her neck, working her way forward toward her ear. Brit leaned back into her, enjoying their touch. When her hands were dry, she swiveled in Alex’s arms and filled them with her hair, pulling Alex closer until their lips were touching, their tongues caressing, and their bodies sliding against each other.

After a minute, Brit pulled back and rested her head on Alex’s chest. “Wow, Alex,” she whispered.

Alex kissed her temple. “Yeah. Wow.”

“I’ve been waiting all day for that,” Brit confessed. Alex had spent the night with her but left early in the morning to go home and shower before school.

“Me, too. It’s hard to see you and not touch you, Brit. It’s hard to pretend.”

“Do you suppose we’re fooling anyone?” she asked.

“I’ve had questions since the day of the in-service.”

“I see the players watching us. I think they’re all suspicious.” Brit and Alex never behaved any way other than professionally when they were at school, and anytime they were in public, but the chemistry between them was obvious. Kim and Tam had commented on it, and Sal had known about them the first time she saw them together. Brit supposed one only had to know what to look for to see it.

“Does it bother you?”

Brit pulled back and looked at Alex. She was so in love that nothing bothered her. Even though they hadn’t made love, yet, Brit knew they would. And she also had no doubt that she would spend the rest of her life with Alex. She was beginning to wonder how to break the news to her family. “No. I don’t care who knows that I love you.” It was the first time she’d said those words to anyone other than her best friends and family, but Brit knew they were true. It was time Alex knew, too.

Alex swallowed as she stared for a moment, holding on to Brit for balance and hoping Brit didn’t notice how clumsy she’d suddenly become. And then Alex pulled her closer, wrapping her arms all the way around Brit. “I love you, too,” she whispered into the softness of Brit’s hair.

At that moment, the timer began to buzz, and Brit turned her attention toward the stove. When she turned back she looked at Alex. “Saved by the bell.”

“Oh, no. This isn’t over. Say it again.”

“What?”

Alex began tickling her. “Say it!”

“I love you.” Brit giggled, and Alex thought she’d never been happier in her life. So much had changed for her since she met Brit. She was truly a different person, simply because someone so amazing looked at her the way Brit did.

“I love you, too.”

“Okay, good. Ready to bake?”

Alex kissed the tip of Brit’s nose. “Ready.”

After washing her hands, Alex joined Brit at the counter. “What’s first?” Alex asked. She was growing more comfortable in the kitchen, thanks to Brit’s tutoring, and no longer feared losing a finger when she lifted a knife. They’d never baked pies, though, and because she knew how much Brit loved to bake, she was looking forward to this experience.

“First, the wine. Are you up for a glass of white wine?”

Alex made a face. “No beer?”

“No, sorry. Wine with pie.” Brit expertly uncorked the bottle and poured two glasses.

“Cheers,” Brit said as their glasses clinked.

“Cheers.” Alex tentatively took a sip from her glass. “This isn’t too bad,” she observed. “What kind is it?”

“It’s a pinot grigio. You like?”

Alex sipped again. “I can handle it.”

“It’s light and crisp. A perfect complement to apples. Now let’s bake. First, we make the crust. Roll up your sleeves, Alex. You’re going to get messy.”

Alex mixed the necessary quantities of flour and salt and shortening and water that Brit poured into a large glass bowl, forming the ball of dough that would be their crust. When Brit was happy with the texture, she took it from Alex and placed it in the freezer. Then they did it all over again.

“Would you like some music?” Brit asked as Alex washed her hands.

“Sure,” she said.

Brit pushed the appropriate buttons on her iPod and the
Kinky Boots
soundtrack began to play again. They sat at the table, a dozen apples of different varieties in a bowl before them, and began peeling.

“Let’s go to New York, Alex. I want to see
Kinky Boots
,” Brit said as she sang.

“Why should you
see
the show? You already
know
the show. You know every word of every song.”

“Yeah, and I’ve seen most of it on YouTube. But I still want to see it on Broadway.”

“Why don’t we go in the spring?”

“Why wait?”

Alex tried to appear neutral as she concentrated on her work. She’d already ordered the tickets and planned to surprise Brit with them for Christmas. She rationalized that covering a Christmas surprise was an acceptable excuse for telling a tiny lie. “I’m saving my money for Christmas. I really can’t afford a trip to New York right now.”

Brit nodded. “I guess you’re right. I probably can’t either.”

“What does your family do on Christmas?” Alex asked.

“Oh, the usual. Everyone goes to my parents’ house on Christmas Eve, we go to mass together, then open presents. Lots of presents. Then they all go home for a few hours so Santa can come and are back at noon for a Christmas feast.” Brit used her forearm to push the hair back from her eyes and asked “How about you?”

“My family usually has dinner in the evening on Christmas because Andrew goes to his in-laws during the day.”

“Just like Thanksgiving, huh?”

“Yeah. So do you want to come to Christmas dinner?”

Brit looked up from her peeling, surprised, hoping her trepidation didn’t show, but before she could answer, Alex continued. “Because I know my family’s going to love you, and before you leave tomorrow night, my mom’s going to invite you for Christmas.”

“Oh,” Brit said, but she didn’t have to think about it for long. There was nothing she’d like more than to spend Christmas Day with Alex. And since she knew Alex wouldn’t be welcome at the Dodges’, the Daltons’ was the only alternative. “Then I guess I’ll be coming to Christmas dinner.”

“How will you handle it with your family?”

Brit hadn’t told Alex about her plan for the next day. She knew Alex wouldn’t approve of the deception, and she found it ironic that while she’d questioned Alex’s integrity, now she was the one with the big moral void. Yet she didn’t know what else to do. She’d only been invited a few days earlier—she certainly couldn’t just spring the girlfriend on her family as the excuse for missing pie baking and then leaving dinner early. The migraine was a much easier solution.

“I don’t know. But I’ll figure out something. Don’t worry. I’ll be there.” They smiled at each other across the table.

“What did you tell them about tomorrow?” Alex asked.

Brit’s heart stopped. At least it felt as if it did. And although she’d been telling a ton of lies lately, she couldn’t lie to Alex. “They don’t know yet.”

Alex tried to hide the disappointment that sprang up inside her. She supposed this was inevitable, and she knew she had no right to any such feelings because Brit had been totally honest with her about her family from the very beginning.

“Look, Brit, if this is a problem, let’s just forget it. Dinner isn’t that important.”

“It is important, Alex. I want to be with you. It’s just new, that’s all. I have to figure out what to say to them.” Brit seemed to understand her feelings, because she smiled sweetly at Alex. “We’re going to work this out, Alex. Together. I wish I could say I know what to do and how to do it, but I’d be lying.”

The reassuring words relieved Alex. “You’re sure?”

“I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life.”

Smiling, Alex sliced off a piece of apple and popped it into her mouth. “Okay. Now what do we do with all of these apples?”

Brit showed her how to slice them, then added sugar and cinnamon to flavor them, and when she was happy with the taste, she set the bowl aside and filled another with all the ingredients for the pumpkin pie. Through it all, Alex was an attentive student, playfully kissing Brit’s nose and feeding her apples and dough, but mostly serious about the task at hand.

When the dough was rolled into a perfect size to fit the pie plate, Brit folded it and carefully placed it into the pan. Alex poured in filling, and then Brit carried the pie plate to the oven and gently placed it on the rack. After wiping her hands on a towel she set the timer. While the pumpkin baked, they rolled the other crust, poured in the apples, and placed the top crust over the heaping pile.

“That’s it?” Alex asked, disappointed. She’d been having fun.

“Well, we have some extra dough, and some extra apples, so why don’t we make a few tarts? I’ll let you roll the dough this time.”

“I don’t think I’m ready for this,” Alex said, teasing her, and pulled her into another hug. She’d meant it to be playful but wasn’t surprised when Brit’s mouth found her neck, and then her mouth. She opened slightly to receive Brit’s tongue, and she caressed it with her own, gently sucking, the heat between them hotter than the oven baking their Thanksgiving pies. They both pulled away breathless, and Alex backed up far enough to look into Brit’s eyes. Hers were twinkling as she spoke.

“Do you want to make tarts or make out?” Alex asked as she buried her mouth in Brit’s silky hair.

Alex could feel Brit trembling in her arms as she whispered, “That depends. Do you want to have an apple tart later or not?”

Alex turned her head so she could see Brit’s face and ran her fingers through Brit’s hair as she looked into her eyes. “Can’t I just have the damn pie? After all, I made it.”

Brit shook her head and frowned. “You can have as much as you want—tomorrow at your parents’ house.”

Alex looked down at Brit and kissed the tip of her nose again. It had taken a full minute to regain focus, but she had it now. “You drive a hard bargain.”

Then Brit reached up and tenderly stroked Alex’s face. “We have the entire evening, Alex. What’s the rush?”

Alex smiled at the irony of Brit’s words. There was certainly no rushing going on in their relationship. It was, in fact, maddeningly slow going. But it was okay. This was all new to Alex, too, and she wasn’t going to push too hard. At least she was trying not to.

Brit stepped away, happy for an excuse. She’d nearly collapsed in Alex’s arms, and she needed to regain control. Apple tarts were a good diversion. Brit instructed Alex on the proper rolling technique, and soon, they had pieces of dough of a suitable size for the proposed tarts. Alex filled and folded, pinching the edges as directed, then went to work on a second tart.

“You’re a quick study, Alex.” Brit beamed as she watched Alex, happier than she ever could have imagined feeling. Everything ordinary was so much better with Alex around, and something as routine as baking a pie was suddenly fresh and new and fun.

Alex met her eyes, and offered a piece of apple to Brit. She sucked it in, along with Alex’s fingers. Suddenly, her resolve melted as she was overcome with desire, and she moaned as Alex withdrew the sugary thumb from her mouth and ran it across Brit’s bottom lip. Brit opened her eyes to meet Alex’s and, seeing the heat and the hunger there, had to close them again. She couldn’t see but sensed Alex’s lips as they met hers, and she felt herself pulling Alex closer, pushing herself into Alex, wanting, needing more. Their tongues tangled and rolled across and around each other, their lips turning first one way and then another as they sought a perfect fit. Alex’s knee parted Brit’s legs, and she found herself sliding against Alex’s thigh, her desire mounting to unprecedented heights.