Waking Up Gray (25 page)

Della finally noticed Lizbeth and announced a little loudly, “Hope you don’t mind if I borrow your girlfriend for a minute.”

Well, Lizbeth thought, she’s not too drunk to have noticed that. She wondered, for a second, how many other people there knew she was with Gray. It didn’t matter and it surprised her that she even gave it a thought. The matter at hand regained her attention. Oh, but Lizbeth did mind the other woman touching Gray. Over the years of being cheated on, Lizbeth had acquired quite an aversion to other women touching what was hers alone to have. Even the slightest friendly hug observed had become a suspicion, and this woman was not hugging Gray with friendly intentions.

Some switch in Lizbeth’s head flipped. She had brought Gray down here to observe and had ended up in a panic of jealousy. It could have been the alcohol - she would blame it on that later - or it could have been the uncontrolled rage she had built up all those years of saying nothing when women pawed at James. Whatever made her do it, Lizbeth moved quickly and without hesitation, pulling Gray from the clutches of the drunken woman and laying a big ass kiss on her right there in front of God and everybody. She let go of a dazed Gray and turned to Della.

“I’m sorry darlin’, but Gray is otherwise engaged, indefinitely.”

Holly, Jaye, and a few other men and women, presumably locals, began to clap and cheer. If an outsider was going to have Gray, they evidently had decided they would rather it be Lizbeth. She had passed some unspoken test. Gray still had an astounded look on her face, as Lizbeth lead her by the hand through the crowd and out of the pub. Lizbeth had staked her claim and now intended to take Gray home and ravish her. The adrenaline from the confrontation fueled her desires. Jealousy, Lizbeth found, was a powerful aphrodisiac.

For the next several hours, Lizbeth lived up to her prediction. She lost the few inhibitions she had left with Gray, all over the little cottage. They had stumbled through the front door with Lizbeth already tearing at Gray’s clothes. Lizbeth took complete control for the first time in their lovemaking and Gray gave it up easily. The teacher was pleased with the student’s performance and fell asleep on Lizbeth’s stomach when they finally made it to the bed, spent and grinning. Lizbeth’s claim had been thoroughly staked.

“Lord, have mercy. Look at you two.” Fanny’s chuckle accompanied her words as she poured the two younger women coffee. “Had a late night, I s’pose?” She giggled, enjoying herself.

Lizbeth was hung-over. Gray didn’t look much better. They were both smiling, but weakly. Fanny passed out aspirin and orange juice, even though she continued to harass them.

“You two ain’t as spry as you used to be. Cain’t be howlin’ at the moon like your younger days. It’ll catch up with ya’.”

“A truer statement has not been spoken,” Lizbeth said weakly. She had gotten up with Gray, even though she wasn’t going with her today, because she felt guilty for getting her drunk.

Fanny went to the refrigerator and removed a bottle of tomato juice. She began creating a concoction it appeared she was familiar with making for Gray. Lizbeth wondered how many times the older woman had put Gray back together after a night of drowning her sorrows. Lizbeth saw hot sauce and black pepper go in the mix and decided not to watch the rest. Fanny talked, or rather teased them, as she worked.

“I guess y’all been getting reacquainted. Been a long time since Gray tied you up to that tree.” Fanny was finding herself exceedingly funny and prodded her granddaughter for a response. “I ain’t seen you this drug up in some time. That little old girl there too much for ya’?”

Lizbeth blushed. She guessed they deserved it. They did look like they had been in a drunken orgy all night. Gray’s hair was sticking out in ten different directions. They had slept as late as possible and Gray had not taken a shower before they crossed the street for breakfast. Lizbeth had no idea how she looked. She had not cared enough to look in the mirror earlier. The orange juice was kicking her sugar levels back up, and though she still felt like shit, she became extremely amused by Gray’s appearance. She was sure she had no room to laugh, considering what her own hair must look like.

Lizbeth began to giggle, staring down at the eggs and bacon on her plate. She felt like a teenager that had been caught necking behind the barn. There wasn’t enough upset at being caught to overwhelm the pure joy and excitement the event had brought her. She couldn’t look at Gray or Fanny for fear of breaking into all out convulsive laughter. Gray began to giggle, too.

Fanny placed a juice glass full of her tomato juice blend in front of both of them. “Here, if this don’t kill ya’, it’ll help ya’ wake up.” Neither woman moved to take the glass. They were both trying so hard not to laugh they couldn’t move. “Good Lord. You two act like young’uns that just found out what all the fuss was with the birds and the bees. I don’t reckon passion is anything to be shy about.”

Lizbeth lost it first, but Gray followed close behind. Yep, they looked like passion personified this morning and the old lady was getting her kicks tormenting them with this knowledge. Lizbeth
had
just discovered what all the fuss was about. She found this observation, on Fanny’s part, extraordinarily funny. Lizbeth had yet to find an end to the places Gray took her. Each sexual experience with Gray had unlocked another pinnacle she had never known before. It was like finally being let in on a secret. It thrilled her and was currently making her laugh until she cried. She kept her head down, unable to look at Gray, because every time she did they both laughed harder. Lizbeth laughed until her sides ached, and then slowly regained her composure, wiping the tears away with her napkin.

A short laugh escaped occasionally, but she was finally able to drink Fanny’s magic elixir. The mixture burned her stomach and she began to sweat, but it was working. She did feel better. Gray also drank the juice laced with hot sauce and pepper and Lord knows what else. Her face began to flush and she started in on her eggs, seized occasionally by a giggle in between bites. Lizbeth joined her.

Fanny laughed along with them and at them. Fanny took delight in making Gray squirm and in the change in Gray since Lizbeth had come into her life. Fanny had the disadvantage of being able to see through Gray’s devil may care attitude and grinning persona. Fanny knew the depth of Gray’s pain, having lived with her for the last five years. It appeared to be a relief to Fanny that Gray was coming back to the land of the living.

The phone on the kitchen wall rang. It startled all of them. Fanny, still chuckling, got up to answer it.

“Hello… Yes it is…” Fanny’s smile disappeared from her face as she listened to whoever was on the other end. “Yes, she is.” Gray’s ears perked up. “Let me ask.” Fanny took the phone from her ear and held it out to Gray.

Gray looked completely surprised that someone would be calling her on that line. She used her cell phone, not the house phone. “Who is it?” She asked Fanny.

Fanny’s eyes darted from Gray to Lizbeth and back again. She sighed and said, “Dana.”

Lizbeth saw the light go out of Gray’s eyes and the color drain from her face. She felt a pain shoot across her chest as Gray rose to take the receiver. Lizbeth could only imagine what Dana wanted and none of it sounded good bouncing around in her brain. She felt like she was intruding. She heard the uneasiness in Gray’s voice when she said hello. Gray didn’t look at Lizbeth. She faced the wall and listened to what Dana was saying. Lizbeth held her breath. Fanny reached across the table and patted Lizbeth’s hand. She was trying to reassure Lizbeth that everything would be okay, but Lizbeth wasn’t so sure. The mere mentioning of Dana’s name had brought a cloud into the room that hung over Lizbeth, waiting to dump its contents at a moment’s notice.

Lizbeth’s heart nearly stopped beating when Gray said, “No. Don’t come to the house. I’ll meet you somewhere.”

Lizbeth must have had fear in her eyes, because Fanny now squeezed the hand that she had been patting, and mouthed the words, “It’ll be all right.”

Lizbeth was paralyzed with terror. All of the other women she knew about meant nothing to Gray. Lizbeth could deal with that and them, but she didn’t know what to expect from Dana. Hadn’t Gray said they had not spoken in years?

“Okay, seven o’clock, Harbor Inn… Yeah, see you then.” Gray hung up the phone slowly. She didn’t turn around right away. Lizbeth could see Gray visibly get control of herself, sighing heavily, before she turned around. She had the look of someone who had just had just seen a ghost. Lizbeth let go of Fanny’s hand, stood up, left the room and the cottage without another word.

She heard Gray say behind her, “Lizbeth, wait.”

Lizbeth couldn’t stop. She saw the future with Gray vanish before her eyes. She couldn’t see anything in front of her; it had all gone fuzzy. She mechanically made her way across the street and shut the door on Gray’s footsteps closing in on her. She locked the door and ignored the knocking. She climbed the stairs and fell face down into the bed they had occupied less than an hour ago. Gray’s pounding on the door and calling her name made no difference. Lizbeth could not fight the panic that struck her.

The pounding stopped on the door downstairs. The tightening in her chest released enough for Lizbeth to take a gasping breath and then the sobbing started. Lizbeth had finally let herself love someone again and it was going to kill her this time when her heart broke. She knew it. This was only the beginning of the pain she was going to feel. She couldn’t get control of herself if she wanted to.

Gray had done nothing to make her feel this way. All that Lizbeth had witnessed was a phone call from Gray’s old girlfriend, wife, whatever. Still it rocked her to her core, because she never thought, in a million years, that not only would she be fighting the ghost responsible for Gray’s broken heart, she was now up against Dana in the flesh. Lizbeth simply assumed she would lose.

Lizbeth was crying so hard she didn’t hear the footsteps coming up the stairs. She didn’t realize Gray was there until she heard her voice, close up behind her, and felt Gray’s weight lie down on the bed beside her. Gray covered Lizbeth’s body, racked with sobs, with her own and hugged her to her.

Gray attempted humor first. “If you’re going to try and keep people out, you should lock the back door, too.” Lizbeth didn’t laugh. Gray tried again. “Lizbeth, honey, her coming here doesn’t change anything… stop crying and listen to me.”

Lizbeth had turned into a ball of mush. She couldn’t catch her breath, let alone talk. She gasped out between sobs, “I…can’t…do…this.”

“Nothing’s going to happen.” Gray waited for a response from Lizbeth. When she got none, she tried again. “Baby, please don’t cry. There’s no reason for you to be upset. I’ll meet her, find out what she wants, and send her on her way.”

Lizbeth tried to believe her. She wanted to so badly, but she’d been down this road before, the “trust me, honey,” road. It had not worked out in her best interest the last time. How could she set herself up for that fall again?

Gray was becoming exasperated. She pleaded one last time, “Really, Lizbeth, don’t you know I’m in love with you?’

Lizbeth spoke, more clearly this time, “I’ve heard…that before.” Gray was paying for somebody else’s mistakes.

Her voice more commanding this time, Gray said, “I’m not James, Lizbeth.”

Lizbeth just couldn’t deal with Gray right now. It really didn’t matter what she said. Lizbeth was lost in her sorrow. It had besieged her. She wasn’t prepared for it and it had sliced her legs right out from under her. She had not experienced a panic attack like this since the first time she caught James cheating. Panic, that’s what this was. “Lizbeth, you are having a panic attack,” she heard a calm inner voice say. The mere fear of experiencing that pain again had shut her ears to Gray’s pleadings.

The panic attacks began when she found James on the beach that night in Hilton Head, the final one culminating in her taking to the bed for months. Lizbeth knew her psyche was fragile. As hard as she tried to be strong, sometimes her mind and body simply took over, bringing Lizbeth to her knees. Lizbeth hated the loss of control. It was a long time before Lizbeth’s doctor could convince her that she really had no say in the matter.

Lizbeth managed to say, “Please Gray, just leave me alone.”

Lizbeth’s gasping cries and frequent attempts to get a complete breath into her lungs were the only sounds in the room. Complete seizure of her diaphragm muscles met each attempt for air, stopping it cold.

“Okay, Lizbeth, I’ll leave, whatever you want.”

Lizbeth nodded her head yes, she wanted Gray to leave. At this point Lizbeth was more worried about her own sanity than anything Gray had to say. Her panic had now exceeded any rationality, because logically this breakdown made no sense. Gray just told Lizbeth she was in love with her. It was the terror of giving in and being wrong that crushed her chest. Her mind and body sensed danger the moment Fanny said Dana’s name, and it had gone into full alarm and flight mode, with no notice to or assistance from Lizbeth.

Her heart remembered the agonizing pain from all those years ago. It had taken Lizbeth down for weeks. She couldn’t function well enough to take care of herself, much less an eight-year-old daughter. Her sister had come to stay with her. Lizbeth’s catatonic state had scared James so badly, he had called Lizbeth’s sister and confessed what he had done. It was the one and only time he ever acknowledged betraying Lizbeth, right up to the bitter end. It had taken two weeks for Lizbeth to regain her feet; more weeks went by before she gained her resolve. In the end, the pain had been so unbearable, it was many years later before she could recall most of that two-week period. Her mind would not let Lizbeth feel the pain until she could process it. Lizbeth thought her mind might be letting her feel some of it now, as a caution. It was gripping Lizbeth around the throat, screaming, “You will not do that to us again.”