Waking Up Gray (17 page)

“Oh Miss Fanny, this looks amazing. I haven’t had cooking like this in years. Thank you so much for having me,” Lizbeth said with true appreciation.

“Go on, sit down. I’ll be through with this here bread in a minute,” Fanny said, turning back to the cornbread, while she continued to talk. “Gray tells me you had one of them sinkin’ spells again. Thought we ought might to feed you. Get ya’ perked up.”

Gray, continuing to grin from ear to ear, pulled out a chair for Lizbeth. Lizbeth sat down. Gray sat down beside her on the same side of the table. This left the other side of the table clear for Fanny to move around and have a place to sit. This also left Gray and Lizbeth’s legs covered under the tablecloth and within inches of each other. When Gray’s leg brushed Lizbeth’s, she shivered. Lizbeth was glad Fanny’s back was to them.

The first time it happened, Lizbeth thought it was an accident. The second time it happened, Lizbeth had been looking at Gray, and she saw the corner of Gray’s mouth twitch. Gray glanced at Lizbeth, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief. Lizbeth, not to be outdone, slid her hand under the table. Ever so gently, she ran the back of her hand up the side of Gray’s thigh.

Gray jumped. Fanny turned around. Looking at Gray, who was trying to act like nothing happened, Fanny said, “Good Lord, Gray. What’s got into you? You been jumpin’ round here for days, like a minnow with a bird after it.”

Gray moved her chair further from Lizbeth, saying, “Must have been a rock under the leg.”

It was all Lizbeth could do not to burst out laughing. She drank some tea to cover her smile, while Gray shot daggers at her with her eyes. Fanny joined them at the table, bringing the still sizzling cornbread with her. They bowed their heads while Fanny thanked the Lord for their meal and asked for protection from the coming storm. They ended the prayer together. “Amen.”

Food was passed and the plates were filled. Lizbeth and Gray didn’t have much to say. Fanny did most of the talking, with the other two adding to the conversation when she prodded them. Lizbeth ate as if it was her last meal. If spinach made Popeye stronger, then these collard greens could be just what she needed. Lizbeth had a feeling she was going to need all of her strength tonight. She and Gray were vibrating with so much sexual tension, Lizbeth didn’t know why the whole room wasn’t shaking.

Fanny was suspicious. Lizbeth could see her looking back and forth between the two of them. Gray wasn’t helping. She had never been so non-talkative. Lizbeth, at least, was trying to stay engaged in the conversation. Gray had just checked out. Lizbeth tried to distract Fanny.

“Miss Fanny,” Lizbeth said, “In forty-four, how did you deal with the storm surge? That was an enormous amount of water.”

“We all stayed to the lighthouse keeper’s quarters. Highest spot on the island. The water just washed on through. Ain’t nothin’ to keep it here. It can only get so high, then it washes right off the other side.” Fanny paused. She looked over the table at Gray, locking eyes with her namesake. “Does the island good to wash off the past now and then. Lets us start fresh. Some folks could learn a lesson from nature. Wash away all that bad stuff from their life, and start over with fresh ground under their feet.”

Lizbeth looked at Gray and then at Fanny. Both women held their stare. Gray spoke next. “Yeah, and another lesson they could take from nature is mind their own business, they’ll live longer.”

“Ornery as a pole cat, always has been,” Fanny said, shaking her head from side to side and chuckling under her breath.

“Look at my role model,” Gray shot back, but it was playful.

The two women would take each other on, but always end it laughing. It was lighthearted banter between two strong willed women, separated by a whole generation, who had found a way to coexist here in this little cottage. Gray stood to do the dishes. Lizbeth rose to help. Gray motioned for her to sit back down.

“No, you sit. This is my job. She cooks. I clean. That’s our deal,” Gray said, grabbing the now empty plates.

Fanny sat up taller and pointed at Gray, saying, “That’s because all you know how to cook is fish, or somethin’ else you brung in here from out the water. Seems to me you’d get tired of fish. Takin’ care of ‘em all those years and then comin’ home and eatin’ ‘em. Would’a made me quamished. I lived off fish my whole life, but fish ever day, that ain’t for me.”

Gray’s back was turned. She said over her shoulder, “It’s good for you. That’s how you got to be so old and mean.”

“Well, if I start eatin’ tuna out of a bag, I want you to go on and put me out of my misery,” Fanny said, chuckling.

Gray was quick with her retort. “I’ll try to remember to get some the next time I’m up the beach.”

“Gray, you’re horrible,” Lizbeth said, but laughed.

Fanny patted Lizbeth’s hand. “I don’t pay no attention to ‘er. She likes to put up a good front, but she ain’t as tough as she makes out to be. Cries like a baby ever time a mention a that dog she left in Texas comes up.”

Gray’s head snapped around. A pan clanged loudly against the porcelain sink. Gray’s eyes were wide with anger. Her voice was lower and took on a tone Lizbeth had not yet heard, and not one Lizbeth wanted directed at her.

“I think that’s entirely enough about me for awhile, don’t you think?”

Fanny knew she’d crossed a line and backed off. She changed the subject to a game of gin rummy and was able to coax the two younger women into playing with her. Once the table had been cleared, they sat down for a long afternoon of cards and sweet tea.

Gray winked at Lizbeth, apparently over her flash of anger. “Watch her. She might look like an innocent old lady, but she cheats.”

“Drime,” Fanny said, as she cackled.

#

At five o’clock, after Fanny had beaten them both handily, the card game adjourned. Lizbeth needed to go put her clothes in the dryer. Fanny said she’d warm up some food for supper, while Lizbeth was gone, and made her promise to be back in thirty minutes. The O’Neal women had made it their mission to make sure that Lizbeth ate plenty.

There had been no more footsy under the table. As a matter of fact, Gray had moved her chair to the end of the table, leaving Lizbeth alone on one side and Fanny on the other. She claimed it was so Fanny wouldn’t try to see her cards, but Lizbeth knew better. The sweltering looks she caught Gray giving her, from time to time, told her she was at the forefront of Gray’s mind.

Gray followed Lizbeth home like a puppy, telling Fanny she was going to help Lizbeth fold her clothes so they could get back in time to eat. Lizbeth wasn’t fooled. As soon as they were behind Lizbeth’s closed front door, Gray was on her. Gray pressed Lizbeth’s back to the door and kissed her hard. Lizbeth reciprocated, her arms around Gray’s strong back, pulling her in tighter.

Their breathing was out of control. They were out of control. Lizbeth put her arms around Gray’s neck. Gray placed her hands on Lizbeth’s hips and lifted her with ease. Lizbeth wrapped her legs around her waist. Gray pressed Lizbeth into the wall behind the door. Lizbeth felt her crotch was going to burst into flames any minute. This was the hottest sex she’d ever had and they hadn’t even taken off their clothes, yet.

Gray ran her hands down Lizbeth’s sides. Lizbeth wanted Gray to stop taking her time and she meant in a hurry. Usually a bit shy in bed, Lizbeth lost all her inhibitions. She grabbed one of Gray’s hands and pulled it onto her breast. Gray’s skillful touch sent waves of ecstasy through her entire body. Gray rocked Lizbeth against her hips and the wall. Just their bodies’ rubbing against one another was bringing Lizbeth close to climax.

Gray was a wonderful lover from the start. She sensed when Lizbeth could not contain the orgasm any longer. She put one hand in the small of Lizbeth’s back and pulled her tightly to her. Gray slid her other hand between Lizbeth’s legs and moved her hand up against Lizbeth’s thrusting pelvis. It only took two thrusts and Lizbeth came in a rush of seizing muscle. She gripped Gray’s shoulders and fell into her with a loud drawn out, “Oh my God!”

Gray held her there pressed into the wall until the muscle spasms subsided and Lizbeth’s breathing began to slow. Lizbeth released her legs from Gray’s waist and slid down her body. Gray kept her arms around Lizbeth, and she was smiling down at her, when Lizbeth finally reopened her eyes.

Lizbeth smiled weakly, spent from the orgasm still echoing inside her. “Jesus Christ, Gray. That was with my clothes on.”

Gray kissed Lizbeth on the forehead. She was proud of herself and it showed in that all too familiar grin. “Well, something had to be done. There was so much sexual tension across the street, I couldn’t concentrate on my cards, and lost to Fanny. You know she keeps a running tab on our games. You cost me dearly.”

Lizbeth sighed, placing her head on Gray’s chest. “Yeah, something had to be done.” Suddenly she looked back up at Gray. “What about you?” Lizbeth asked.

Gray chuckled. “It’s okay, I’m fine.”

Lizbeth was flustered. “But I… You didn’t… I mean… I had fun, but you…”

Gray kissed Lizbeth and then whispered in her ear, “Oh honey, believe me, I had fun, too.”

Lizbeth said, “Oh,” and then really understanding, she repeated, “Oh,” emphasizing it with a wicked grin.

Gray loosened her hold on Lizbeth. “Now, where’s this laundry we’re supposed to be folding, or did you make that up to lure me over here?”

“No, there really is laundry. I have some in the washer and some in the dryer,” Lizbeth said, still weak and uninterested in laundry at the moment.

“We better get those in the washer put in the dryer, before the power goes out. You wouldn’t want them to get goaty.”

“Goaty?” Lizbeth had a new word to learn.

Gray had gotten used to translating for her. She said, “It means foul smelling.”

“I guess you’re right, but I’d rather stay right here,” Lizbeth said, smiling at Gray.

Gray kissed her again, lightly on the lips. “I’d like to stay like this too, but that old woman will come looking for us, if we don’t show up on time.”

“What do you think Fanny would say if she found us like this?” Lizbeth asked.

“Gray, you’re gonna be late for supper.”

#

Lizbeth and Gray were not late. They showed up just in time. Fanny had the table set again. They resumed the previous seating arrangement, only Gray didn’t sit so far away from Lizbeth this time. Lizbeth was sure Fanny was going to see the “I just had sex” look on her face, but if she did, she made no indication of it.

Gray acted nonchalant as if nothing had happened. She seemed much more relaxed now. Gray was always more relaxed when she was in control. She had regained control because she held Lizbeth in the palm of her hand, literally and figuratively. Once more, the tide had turned in their little sexual game of cat and mouse. Lizbeth was yet again the prey of the “wampus cat.”

They listened to the radio while they ate, processing all the latest news of Earl. The maximum velocity winds inside the hurricane had decreased. Still, the storm would bring at least sixty mile an hour winds to the island. Heavy bands of rain were expected along with storm surge. Ocean waves reported on the Diamond Shoals were already approaching twenty feet. Low tide would be around eight p.m. The wind outside had picked up to a steady twenty miles an hour, merely a strong breeze, but the worst was yet to come. Earl was expected to pass Ocracoke in the wee hours of the coming morning, near or at high tide.

After the supper dishes had been cleaned and put away -- this time Lizbeth insisted she help just to keep herself busy -- Gray and Lizbeth closed the storm shutters on Fanny’s house. The wooden shutters were pulled closed and then a two by four, cut to fit, was inserted through braces and bolted to the windows with wing nuts and preplaced bolts. It didn’t take long and then they all, Fanny included, piled into the Jeep to take a ride “over the beach,” as the islanders say. The waves were crashing so fast it was hard to distinguish one from another. The wildness and strength of the waves proved once again nature’s awesome power. The foam-crested waves reached up as high as they could before slamming into shore, sending salt spray cascading into the air. The roar was deafening.

Fanny pronounced, “She’s angry. She’ll spit out some ol’ ship parts before she’s through.”

Gray, in a moment of self-disclosure, confessed, “Even though I barely remember him, I used to walk this beach after every storm, looking for pieces of Dad’s boat.”

Fanny patted Gray’s hand on the gearshift. The O’Neal women knew real pain. Lizbeth realized they got through it together, one strong when the other was weak.

Back home and the Jeep locked safely away again, the three women settled into the parlor. Fanny pulled out some old family albums, and showed Lizbeth pictures of Gray’s mother and father. They had been a stunning couple. Lizbeth could see a little bit of Gray in both of them, but mostly Gray looked like her tall, blond mother with the same smooth complexion and laughing eyebrows.

Lizbeth held the family album in her lap. She began to thumb through it. She and Gray were sitting side by side on the floor in front of the couch, so they could both see the pages. Fanny sat behind them on one end of the couch, leaning over to point people out or give a location and time for the photo. Her mind was like a steel trap. She remembered everything and everybody.