Out Of This World (11 page)

I looked down at my feet and wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I’m so sorry that I eavesdropped before. It’s none of my business, just ignore everything I said. I don’t know what’s come over me lately. I never would have done anything like that before or butted into your business…it’s just…”

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Just what, Mabs?”

I couldn’t believe I was about to confess how I felt about her, but I caught myself just in time. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Uh you go ahead and do what you need to do. I’ll save some dinner for you, unless you want to wait just a bit and have dinner first.”

Sydney glanced outside, watching Celeste before responding. “Yeah I’ll do that, have dinner first because it smells amazing.” She smiled at me, and this time it reached her eyes.

†

Dinner was a smashing success and I was proud of how well everything turned out. Sydney smiled as she listened to Celeste hum her pleasure with the meal. As if by some unspoken pact, we all decided to avoid any reference to Celeste’s belief in her alien heritage.

It was a nice evening, so we decided to eat outside. It seemed like the sun really was helping Celeste because her rosy glow seemed to return with every minute we spent out in the final light of the day.

It was nice to receive their sincere admiration for my cooking skills. Celeste hummed while Sydney made satisfying
mmm
sounds. I shook my head as it wandered to thoughts about what kind of sounds either of them might make if we were making love. It was positively scandalous how I was thinking about both of them.

Sydney pushed herself from the table. “I better get going so that I can be back in time to deliver dessert. I won’t be long and I’ll bring us back a surprise.”

“I hope everything goes the way you want it to, but if you need someone to talk to, I’ll be here. All the times you had my back, it’s the least I can do for you.” I looked her straight in the eye. “This time I have your back, Sydney.”

She chuckled and waved at me as she left the back patio.

I suppose it was ludicrous. Big strong firefighter Sydney needing mousy little me to have her back, but I meant it. I wanted her to know that no matter what happened I would support her. I was developing a bit of a backbone and I would go toe-to-toe with Hollie if she needed me to.

“Hollie is not well suited to Sydney. Their energy signatures do not match,” Celeste stated.

I nodded. “I agree with you, but unfortunately Hollie has some kind of pull on her because she keeps going back no matter what that skank does.”

“Skank?”

“Sorry, it’s a very unkind description of someone.”

“Can we watch the video box again?” she asked.

Her quick change of topics was starting to give me whiplash, but I was eager to talk about anything else but Hollie. I led her to the living room and when she was settled into Sydney’s recliner, I showed her how to change the channels on the TV and pull the handle on the recliner so she could relax after dinner. Once she was involved in the TV, I picked up the dishes, brought them inside, started washing them, and got lost in my thoughts.

I would be sharing the room with Celeste again and I didn’t know how I would get any sleep. My nighttime fantasies were suddenly coming to life and I was experiencing a brand new set of sensations that I wasn’t sure how to handle.

I’d always told myself that I would wait to have sex with someone I was in love with, but that notion seemed incredibly old fashioned and somewhat unrealistic with each passing hour I spent with Celeste. Besides, maybe I was falling in love with this eccentric woman who, with the right drug cocktail, might be the perfect match for me. It was time to start living rather than existing.

As I let the warm sudsy water flow over my hands while cleaning the dinner dishes, I decided that if Celeste wanted to try out some of that stuff in my books, I would let her. I might even be brave enough to experiment with a few things I’d read about. I hoped it was as easy as the books described.

I wiped my hands on the dishtowel and slowly made my way to the living room to join Celeste.

She was watching some sappy Hallmark movie and seemed so engrossed that it was almost comical. It was like she was memorizing every word, every gesture. She looked up as I entered the room.

“I am learning about love from this video box,” she stated.

I laughed. “I don’t think you can really learn about love from the TV. That’s just Hollywood’s version of love. I think you have to experience it first hand before you know what love really is. I also think there are different kinds of love.”

She tilted her head and looked at me. “Will you tell me of those different kinds of love?”

“Well, there is a mother’s love…” I stopped because I suddenly remembered one of my favorite children’s books and I wanted to share this with Celeste. I was glad I’d packed my iPad and could access the book on my Kindle app. I ran into the guest bedroom, pulled my e-reader from my overnight bag, and began scrolling through the Kindle library until I found the book,
Love You Forever
.

This book always made me cry. To me, this was the essence of love because no matter what the little boy did, his mother never stopped loving him. Of course it all came full circle when he rocked his mother and sang her the same words:
I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always, as long as I’m living, my mommy you will be
.

It was such a simple book, but captured the essence of unconditional love. As much as I liked to complain about my mom and her overwhelming need to try to stick her nose in my private affairs, I knew that she loved me. I don’t know why I never gave her the chance to help me with my angst over growing up and learning about my preference for women. While she may not throw a celebration party, I knew deep down that it would never stop her from loving me. Someday soon I would have to let her in on that little secret and give her the opportunity to show me that love.

Of course, I started bawling the minute I began to read the book to Celeste, and she definitely did not understand.

“I do not understand why the water falls from your eyes. Is this not something that occurs when you feel loss or sadness?” she asked.

“Yes, we cry when we’re sad or experience loss, but sometimes we cry for other reasons. It’s hard to explain. Sometimes people cry when they experience great emotion, including love or happiness, or when something moves you like a magnificent piece of art or music. When something touches your soul in such a profound way, tears appear. Poems or books do that to me. I am moved by words. Words matter.” I touched my chest where my heart lies. “I feel it here.”

She quirked her head. “Love is very complicated.”

“That, my friend, is an understatement. Besides a mother’s love, there is love between friends. There is love between energy mates as you put it. There is brotherly or sisterly love. Humans love their pets, like children, and sometimes refer to them as fur children—especially lesbians. There is love of music, art, food, nature, and sport. I suppose love is synonymous with passion. We throw around the word ‘love’ so carelessly that it has lost its true meaning. True love means sacrifice and compromise. Sometimes love means pain. Some people say there is a fine line between love and hate. I’m not sure I subscribe to that philosophy, but love and hate are both the ultimate emotions. Love can also be destructive and addictive.”

“I hope that I have enough time here on this planet to experience at least one of those types of love so that I may bring this concept back to Sisterna. What do you suggest I watch on the black box to learn about these different types of love?”

“Well I’m not so sure you can really learn about love from watching TV, but it can probably give you some rudimentary information. Like I said before, I think in order to really learn about something, you have to experience it firsthand. It might not be easy to explain, but everyone says you definitely know it when you feel it.”

“I read about this passion you speak of in one of your books. I would like to experience this passion. Perhaps it will help me learn about love.”

Okay this was it—the fork in the road. Would I be able to take the plunge? I decided to defer the decision until later. “Maybe, Celeste, but this will have to be experienced in private after we retire for the evening.”

“Retire?”

“Yes after we go to the bed to rest like we’ve done in the previous evenings.”

“This passion is experienced in the sleeping chambers?” she asked.

“Well not always, but for me, if it’s going to happen at all, yes, it will have to be in the sleeping chambers behind closed doors. I’d rather my first experience be in a comfortable private place, so no back-seat make-out sessions or rapid kitchen table excursions for me.”

She must have been satisfied with the answer because she turned her focus back on the television and continued to watch the movie.

†

Two hours later Sydney walked into the cabin with a cheesecake in one hand and our fish in the other.

I could tell she had been crying because her eyes had that puffy red-rimmed look about them.

I walked over to her, removed the dessert and salmon from her hands, placed them on the kitchen counter, and then did something uncharacteristic. I pulled her into my arms and hugged her. I stroked her cheek and then followed it with a kiss. “You okay?”

She pulled back and looked at me and I think she was in shock.

In all the years we’d been friends, I’d never had the nerve to hug her before, much less touch her so intimately. It was a chaste kiss, but I still kissed her on the lips versus her cheek.

She nodded, but didn’t say anything about her visit with Hollie. “I called in a favor and got us a cheesecake from the bakery.” She grinned.

I remembered the blueberries in her refrigerator and after I found a place to store the fish, I pulled them out to toss on top of the rich dessert.

“Excellent choice. They make the best cheesecake in the whole state.”

This assertion seemed to rouse Celeste from her movie, as she stretched and gracefully moved toward the delectable treat laid out on the counter.

“Will I like this cheesecake, Bella?”

“Oh yeah, this will definitely have you humming.”

“Sorry it’s so late, but since none of us have to get up early tomorrow, we can enjoy the sugar rush. Coffee anyone?” Sydney offered.

“Sure why not. I might as well indulge since we can all stay up late and maybe I can experience a good old fashioned slumber party since I never got invited as a kid,” I joked.

“You did too. I invited you all the time, but you never came,” Sydney pointed out.

“That’s because Hollie threatened to put super glue in my hair and other unspeakable cruelties. I didn’t dare accept the invitation. Besides, your invitations didn’t count.”

I didn’t really want to tell her all about the hideous, old-fashioned, night gear I had to wear as a further enhancement to my metal mouth. Mom had selected a positively ancient orthodontist who insisted on using the old techniques. I was beyond embarrassment about the additional accessories and would have never agreed to attend a slumber party even if Hollie didn’t show.

“Why not? What am I, chopped liver?” Sydney asked.

Celeste was watching us banter back and forth like she was watching a tennis match, her eyes moving from one to the other.

“I thought your mom made you invite me.”

“She did no such thing. I never understood why you always declined. Although, I must admit to wondering which creative excuse you would use. I looked forward to hearing them. My all-time favorite was that your cat had abandonment issues and would pee all over your shoes if you left her for one night.” Sydney chuckled.

“Actually, at the time, that was true. Gizmo’s not like that, but my cat at the time, Peaky, really did pee in a shoe when she thought I ignored her too much.”

“Ew. What did you do with the shoe?”

“I threw it out, you doofus. What did you think I would do, wear it to the prom?”

Sydney shrugged. “I don’t know. I only had two pair of shoes in high school, so I might have tried to rescue it.”

“You did not. You had a different pair of shoes for every sport you played.”

“Those don’t count because I always left them in my locker.”

“How come you only had two pair of shoes?” I couldn’t fathom this at all. I admit to being a shoe worshiper.

“How many do you really need? I had one for casual dress and one for dress up. Black goes with everything, you know.”

I laughed. “No it doesn’t. That’s ridiculous.”

“Well it went with everything I owned.”

I remembered back to high school and Sydney did seem to wear only black. That was her rebellious stage and I’m sure her parents were relieved when she grew out of it.

“Yeah, I guess it did go with everything you owned back then. Tell me you don’t only have two pair of shoes now.”

“Oh no, I’ve doubled my wardrobe. I now have four. Shoes aren’t my thing.”

“Someday you will have to let me take you shoe shopping. I don’t think they’ll kick you off the lesbian island for having more than four pair of shoes.”