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Once more time with feeling-Peggy J.Herring

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Once More with Feeling

Entertaining… utterly engaging… and real. An everyday lesbian world so credible you'll think you're eavesdropping. Where you will find the challenges as well as the joys of love and friendship. Where you will find yourself, and the women you know After eight years, Laura's relationship with Mavis has collapsed, as much from its decreasing weight and passion as from Mavis's casual infidelity.

Taking temporary refuge with close friends Jolly and Wanda, Laura begins to put herself back together, her first step a brief but erotic interlude in Hawaii. But the most healing person she knows seems to be her own solitary self, and the most healing place, her own house. In the meantime, ex-partner Mavis is busy charming other women. But still she is a presence - an intrusion, feels Laura - in Laura's life,

bringing over her newest partners, prevailing upon Laura to widen her horizons, to continue their love as loyal friendship. Then Laura meets appealing, enigmatic Robin… and suddenly finds the possibility of a new relationship. A possibility that intrigues Laura. And completely flabbergasts Mavis…

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Chapter One

Laura tucked the warm box of fried chicken under her arm and grabbed her purse off of the front seat. Through soggy grass she dodged the water sprinkler that had chosen to oscillate in her direction. She hurried up the steps of her mother's house where the faint smell of gardenia blossoms met her in the living room.

"Did you get all white?" her mother called from the kitchen. "You know how I only like the white." "Yes, Mother." Laura set the box of chicken down

on the dining room table. "You're watering. It's supposed to rain today."

"You didn't get corn on the cob!" Mrs. Davenport said as she rummaged through the box. "I'm sorry. They were out." Laura made a mental note to always show up with corn on the cob when she brought chicken. "I'll make a salad." She watched as her mother wrestled with an ice tray. Laura resisted the urge to help her, reminding herself how well she

obviously got along without her during the rest of the week. They sat down at the table and dealt out extra napkins and tiny ketchup packets.

"I'll take a wing," Mrs. Davenport said, passing her plate. "They have so many moving parts, it's almost like eating a toy."

Laura smiled. "I'm a breast kind of girl myself." The moment the words were out of her mouth, she knew she had made a mistake. She could feel the stare drilling into her like a laser beam from across the table, but she dared not look up. "Chicken, Mother. I was talking about chicken."

Mrs. Davenport ripped the wing apart with a steel grip that seemed almost bionic in its ferociousness. These couldn't be the same hands that had delicately manipulated the stubborn ice tray only minutes earlier, Laura thought.

"You're a beautiful girl. You could get a man."

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"And what about children? You know how I feel about that, Laura. It's your responsibility to give me grandchildren." She punctuated certain words with a

mangled chicken wing. Laura ignored her and continued eating her salad. "It's the only thing I've ever asked of you."

"Another word and I'm leaving," Laura warned calmly. It was a threat she knew her mother would take seriously.

They finished eating in silence, each with a small pile of clean bones on the side of her plate. They washed dishes and retired to the porch swing to sip lemonade and watch the water sprinkler. They talked and swung until dark when the mosquitoes drove them in. Laura felt good about their afternoon together. She gave her mother a hug and went home to her apartment near downtown San Antonio.

Laura slid a TV dinner out of the microwave and began taking the thin plastic off of the top, careful to avoid the steam. She heard the apartment door open and close and the dog's high-pitched friendly bark. Mavis breezed into the kitchen in search of a beer in the virtually empty refrigerator. They both grunted a greeting of sorts.

"Are you going out again tonight?" Laura asked.

"I'm thinkin' about it," Mavis drawled in her north Texas accent. She unbuttoned her white uniform and sashayed to their bedroom. Her blonde hair bounced on her shoulders as she

passed by.

Laura finished eating before switching the television on to watch the remainder of the news. It was already past her usual bedtime. Mavis had

strutted naked in and out of the kitchen once for a sandwich earlier, but finally emerged in freshly creased blue jeans and a peasant blouse that left little to the imagination. She could always manage to stuff those thirty-eight D's on that size ten body into clothes no one else would have nerve enough to try, and she pulled it off exquisitely. Mavis was tall like Laura, and carried herself with the same confidence that most beautiful women do.

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"I thought you were trying to save money," Laura said.

Mavis ran a brush through her clean blow-dried hair and sprayed a dab of Ambush on a few of her favorite areas. "I am. I'll be out by the end of the month like I promised." The

mirror that hung in the hallway gave her another opportunity to inspect herself. She reapplied a sparse amount of lipstick and primped profusely as she eyed her reflection. "Jolly called me at work to invite us over for dinner this week. You promised to break the news to her, darlin'. I suggest you hop to it before this gets all too embarrassin'." She found her purse and threw a kiss and a wink over her shoulder. "Don't wait up for me." Laura patted the couch. Ms. Fang, her small gray poodle, jumped up beside her. She hugged the dog and smoothed the curls away from its eyes. Ms. Fang rested her head in Laura's lap as they both finished watching the weather. Laura switched off the television and went to the bedroom and put the dog's blanket at the foot of the bed. Neither woke up when Mavis finally came home.

Laura worked diligently at the office the following day and suppressed the vision she had of her mother puttering amid the numerous flower beds in her front yard. It usually took Laura a few days to fully recover from a Sunday visit. Her father had been dead three years now, and her mother was finally beginning to adjust to living alone.

Laura had so many things going on in her own life at the moment, that her first instinct was to withdraw from everything that entailed any emotion at all. She would've loved to just close her eyes and let the world carry on without her. She was tired. Her relationship with Mavis was rapidly coming to an end. The decision had already been made, and it was such a relief simply to have it over with. Her lack of emotion worried her though, and there was a numbness that went with it that she didn't recognize.

Jolly called after lunch, her laughter a welcomed relief from Mavis's short, moody telephone calls. "How about dinner tomorrow night? Wanda has her chops set for ribs.

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We'll barbecue."

"I don't think so," Laura said hesitantly. There were times when Mavis's reluctance to get involved in certain aspects of friendship irritated her. Mavis had gladly given Laura the

responsibility of tel ing the world about their breakup. Laura, however, didn't like being the bearer of bad news any more than anyone else did. "Mavis and I are going our separate ways," she said bluntly. "We're finally making it official."

Jolly paused for just a moment before going on. "How about six? We're having beer, beans and potato salad."

"You're not listening. Mavis and I are breaking up." There was total silence. "We're only living together now because she can't afford a place of her own yet. She's paying off her

bills." She had anticipated several reactions, but when Jolly started to cry Laura had no idea what to say next. "Come on," she whispered. Jolly seemed to be more upset by this than either she or Mavis had been. "It's not that bad. It's a friendly divorce."

"I don't believe it! Eight years, Laura," she said in a strained voice. "You two just celebrated eight years!"

"Only three of which were memorable," Laura reminded her. "Look, Mavis and I are okay with this. It's something we both want. I don't know. I'm just tired right now. I need to be

by myself for a while. Just me and a new candle making kit." "Then it's not permanent? It's just a separation?"

"It's over, Jolly. Very much over."

"I'm so sorry." Jolly sniffed. "I feel terrible."

Ten minutes later Wanda, Jolly's lover, was on the phone just as upset, but without the tears. "Why didn't Mavis tell me yesterday?" she barked. "We spent three hours

together!"

"She says it's my job. She's no good at this sort of thing." Laura sighed heavily and rubbed the back of her neck. "We've more or less already gone our separate ways even though

we're still under the same roof. We're muddling through right now. You know how it is when you're deciding who gets the toaster and whose pantyhose are whose."

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"Does Mavis have someone else lined up?" Wanda asked.

"I don't know and I don't really care." She refrained from mentioning how much Mavis had been going out recently. Wanda didn't need more of an excuse to rant and rave.

"This is just awful. I feel like I've lost a member of my family."

Laura closed her eyes as the words struck a sentimental chord somewhere deep inside of her. Yes, they were a family. The four of them spent holidays together, vacations,

weekends. There would be no more scenic drives or trips to the beach. No more Saturday night Scrabble games. No more bargain hunting at the flea market.

"So what's the odds of you two patching things up?" she heard Wanda asking. "I feel so stupid. Jolly and I didn't even know anything was wrong!"

Laura glanced at her watch and reached for a tablet on the corner of her desk. "I've gotta go. There's a staff meeting in two minutes. I'll call you tonight."

On her way down the hall she made up her mind to stop off at an arts and crafts shop and load up the car with macramé and needlepoint kits. She was ready for some time to herself. Laura put Ms. Fang on a leash and carried her down the apartment stairs. Both of them were itching for a much needed walk. The cool wind blew Laura's hair in her face as they rounded the corner to the park, and it felt good getting out in the early evening air.

She was looking forward to being alone. She'd even contemplated taking a vacation to the Bahamas or possibly even someplace more ridiculous. She was

convinced that she needed time away from everything— work, Mavis, her mother, rush-hour traffic. She wanted to be alone, to get to know herself again. Having Mavis in her life all those years had caused her to lose touch with the real Laura Davenport. She had no idea who she was or what she wanted but hoped to find out one way or another. When things should have been at their worst, Laura found herself getting more excited about this new phase of her life. "We can handle it, can't we?" she whispered as she picked Ms. Fang up again and cradled her in her arms. The dog rubbed her cold nose against Laura's cheek and

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gave comforting noises in return.

On Sunday, the only day off they had together, Laura and Mavis avoided each other as best they could. There were full boxes stacked in the corner of the apartment and several empty ones near the stereo. Mavis sat on the couch in her robe and slippers with Ms. Fang, craving attention, in her lap.

"I'm movin' out next Saturday," Mavis said.

Laura poured herself another cup of coffee and glanced at the teapot-shaped clock over the stove. She had to get ready, both physically and mentally, for the weekly visit to her mother's.

"You need help?" Laura asked. She laughed at the absurdity of the offer. Did other couples actually help each other pack when they broke up, she wondered.

"I'm gettin' Wanda's truck," Mavis said, continuing to rub Ms. Fang's back. She looked down at the small dog and smiled. "I'm gonna miss you, darlin'. I never had me a doggie before. Do I get this little fur ball on weekends?"

"No," Laura said, "but you can come over and see her whenever you want. I'm thinking about going on a cruise or something. Maybe around Christmas time. Ms. Fang hates the

kennel. I'd feel better about her being with you than at my mother's." "A cruise! Where?"

"I'm not sure yet. I just need to get away for a while."

Mavis bounced off the couch and snatched up a stack of albums. She stood them up carelessly in a box before storming into the kitchen where she dumped the crumbs out of the toaster oven and wrapped the cord around it.

Laura watched her slam things about and yank open drawers. After a few minutes, Laura got up from the table and went to take a shower. She's pissed off because I'm taking a cruise, she thought as the water from the shower hit her in the face. Or maybe she's

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the hell cared?

Bright and early Saturday morning Jolly and Wanda were at the apartment offering their services. Mavis had taken the day off to move, and Laura and the poodle did their best to stay out of the way.

"I hate this," Jolly said as she picked up another

box. Mavis and Wanda were out at the truck rearranging the load. Jolly rested the box against the couch, her tall lanky frame swallowed up in a sweatshirt and blue jeans. "She has a lover already. Did you know that?"

"I've suspected it," Laura said evenly. Her lack of emotion surprised her. Was this what they'd come to? There wasn't even a twinge of remorse that Mavis was moving out. "We've got separate lives to lead, Jolly. You may as well start getting used to it."

"I can't believe it's this easy. Neither one of you seems angry or anything. It's like you've been nothing but roommates for eight years!"

"That's basically what we've been for the last two. I can't remember the last time we made love. It's been easier to stay together. We're comfortable with each other." "And that doesn't count for anything?"

"It's not enough. There's gotta be something else out there for both of us."

Jolly set the box on the couch and put her arms around her. "It just makes me so sad. The four of us were supposed to grow old together. Buy a worm farm when we retired.

Remember?"

"I never agreed to the part about the worm farm."

They heard the apartment door open, and Wanda and Mavis came in. The four of them stared at each other for an uncomfortable moment before they all picked up a box and carried it out to the truck.

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hung new curtains, put her favorite puzzles together for hours on end, reupholstered her couch, and took Ms. Fang for countless walks in the evening. She thought of Mavis often and reached for her in the night, more out of habit than anything else. Laura missed the closeness they had shared in bed, the presence of a warm, female body beside her.

At college they had met during a tutoring session arranged by the math department. Laura had volunteered her services for three hours a week in algebra, trigonometry and calculus, and Mavis had been halfway through her second semester of Algebra I and flunking it badly again. By the end of their first session, they had worked through three chapters, had shared a kiss in the empty basement at the library and made a date for later that

same evening. Mavis lived in the dorm and had a roommate who never went anywhere, and Laura lived at home and had parents who never went anywhere. They decided on a drive-in movie, and parked on the very last row. The front seat of Laura's car did just fine for what they had in mind. Laura found out quickly how far a little imagination and a creative, willing lover could get you. She experienced her first orgasm before the previews were over and had fallen in love sometime during the second feature.

Their first two years together had been so much fun. Laura had to admit that even though things had been simpler then — paid tuition, a generous allowance from Daddy and finally a cheap apartment shared with another lesbian couple, Mavis had made a major difference in Laura's life. Laura would miss more than just Mavis's warm body at night. She would miss having her as a friend.

Later that week she tried to make travel arrangements for a cruise to the Bahamas but was informed that all cruises were booked for the week between Christmas and New

Year's. She was disappointed and had been counting on getting away, especially during the holidays, going somewhere she'd never been and doing something she'd never done before. When the travel agent suggested a similar package for Hawaii at close to the same price,

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Laura jumped at it. She bought vacation clothes, worked like a demon to get caught up at the office and broke the news of her trip to her mother.

"Is that woman going with you?" Mrs. Davenport asked.

For eight years Mavis had been referred to as "that woman." Laura ignored the question, having no desire to give her mother the satisfaction of knowing that she and Mavis no longer lived together. Hawaii was looking better and better with each word that fell from those pursed lips.

She called Mavis at work a few days before she was scheduled to leave and was surprised at how good it was to hear her voice. Mavis seemed curious about the trip and indirectly tried to drag information out of her, but Laura remained vague about her plans.

"I hear you aren't living alone," Laura said, changing the subject. "I'm sharin' an apartment with Susan Webb from X-ray."

"Sharing an apartment." Laura chuckled. "Does she mind you watching the dog for me? Does she like dogs? My mother could keep her if it's a problem."

"No problem at all, darlin'," Mavis assured her. "You just have a good time. When can I pick the Fangster up? I bought her a Benji colorin' book yesterday. You think she'll like it?"

"I'll check with my mother and see if she can keep her."

"You'll do no such thing! We'll be fine, darlin'. I'm lookin' forward to spendin' time with the fur ball."

Hawaii was a dream. Laura slept the entire way over and was in bed by eight the first night she arrived. Once she realized how much money she was wasting by sleeping her vacation away, she was ready to have some fun. The package included a few days at Waikiki Beach, Maui, and a visit to Kona and the Big Island. She rented a car and did the usual tourist things right away. She took five rolls of film her first time out, but hated dragging the camera around. Later she decided that anything else she wanted a picture of, she would just buy the appropriate postcard instead.

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She spent mornings at the beach, and munched on fruits and vegetables during the afternoons as she

toasted on the edge of the beautiful pool. There was a bar with palm leaves and bamboo decor across from a lush garden behind the hotel. The bartender was a tall brunette dressed in a white tank top neatly tucked into white shorts. Her skin was bronze and seemed even that much darker against her clothes. Laura remembered how good Mavis always looked in white.

Her name was Tonita, according to her name tag, and she obviously didn't wear a bra or care who noticed. Tonita had the attention of every male on the beach. Laura zoomed in on her right away as well.

Wanting a closer look at her, she had passed by the little thatched cabana earlier on her way to the beach. Tonita usually drew a crowd in the afternoon. Laura finished swimming and soaking up rays and had changed into shorts, a festive sleeveless blouse and sandals. Someone vacated a bar stool just as she arrived. Tonita looked at her for a moment and then continued making the usual slew of drinks.

She flipped bottles, added a dash of this and a pinch of that, all to the grinding of a tired blender behind her. Four different drinks were made at the same time and dealt out to customers either seated or standing around the bar. Just as Laura was about to order, Tonita set a pina colada down in front of her and with a twirl and flourish added the tiny umbrella to it.

"A pifia colada with a double shot of rum," she said. Laura managed to close her slightly gaping mouth.

"Thank you," she said. It was the only drink she had ordered in the cabana bar since her arrival — and she hadn't really ordered it. She had had three the night before in the hotel lounge. Laura slid a crisp ten-dollar bill across the bar.

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"It's on the house," Tonita said.

More bottles were flipped, limes juggled, and dashes of this and pinches of that tossed around only to land miraculously where they were all supposed to. The moment Laura's drink was even close to being empty, a fresh one was put in its place. The tiny umbrella was always twirled and then added to the drink with a flourish and the words, "On the house," following soon after.

An hour and a half later, with Laura well on her way to a healthy buzz, she caught Tonita's hand as she twirled the tiny umbrella again before placing it in Laura's drink.

"How did you know what I like to drink?" Laura asked. She had wanted to ask the question sooner but hadn't had the opportunity. Laura let go of the bartender's hand. She had

gotten her attention, which was more than any other customer had accomplished so far. "You ordered three last night," Tonita said. "There in the lounge."

"You remember that? Where were you?"

She smiled. "I was there." She resumed making drinks with the same energetic finesse as before. Occasionally she glanced over in Laura's direction and smiled. The muscles in those tanned arms, and the slight jiggle of her firm breasts as she raised the

bottles, one in each hand, had everyone's attention. A while later she brought another drink over for Laura and said, "I get off at eleven."

Laura laughed and felt absolutely wonderful. "I'm not sure I can even stand up." "For what I've got in mind you won't need to stand up."

"We leave the lights out," Tonita said, "and I keep my clothes on. I like it that way."

Laura was still in a pina colada stupor, in no condition to question what anyone else found pleasurable. After three unsuccessful attempts at getting it in the lock, Laura finally

surrendered her room key. Between being a whole lot drunk and a tad bit nervous, she considered herself fortunate just finding the right room. Tonita smiled and unlocked the

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door, slowly dropping the key in the palm of Laura's hand.

Once inside, Laura switched a light on and turned around and stepped into her arms. Tonita's lips grazed her throat and earlobe, and a few seconds later Laura heard the click of the lamp as Tonita turned the light off. They danced through the darkness to the edge of the bed where Laura's giddy excitement began to take over. Her blouse was hastily unbuttoned and then tossed somewhere on the other side of the room. A slender, curious hand inched into her shorts, unzipping and tugging at them easily.

"And me without my pocket rocket," Tonita whispered. Deep, relentless kisses made Laura forget where

she was and even how she had gotten there. Her body responded to everything touching her — lips, fingers, tongue, the bedspread against her naked back and legs. They rolled to the center of the bed as their mouths desperately sought more of each other. Laura's

hands moved under Tonita's shirt and briefly met cool soft skin. She reached for the top of Tonita's shorts only to get her hands gently pushed away again.

"You're so wet," Tonita said. Her tongue flicked over Laura's hard nipples; fingers slipped inside of her making her shudder unexpectedly.

"Take your clothes off," Laura said, her voice ragged and breathless. "Just enjoy me," Tonita cooed. "You like this, don't you?"

Like it? Laura thought. Who wouldn't like it? She came quickly, and before she was fully aware of anything else, Laura found herself on the edge of the bed with her legs dangling over Tonita's shoulders. Laura was sure that the room was spinning, but it was too dark to verify such a thing.

Orgasms became elementary, while her limbs remained heavy and cumbersome. Each time Laura moved, she felt as though she were under water. She pulled at Tonita's shirt again and heard a low chuckle.

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this way. You'l see."

"I need to touch you," Laura said. She wanted the predictable, the usual — the bare skin and the cool sweat. So far, none of this seemed real. In Laura's mind, it took some

sort of effort on

everyone's part in order for two people to make love, and what was happening to her now didn't resemble anything like that. "Please take your clothes off."

Again the low chuckle, and again another position was introduced and implemented. Laura was absolutely exhausted after round four, and barely had the strength to collapse on a pillow. Instead of trying to tug on various articles of Tonita's clothing, she feebly pawed at the bedspread in an attempt to cover herself up. Through the fog of sleep, alcohol, and a sex-induced daze, Laura was vaguely aware of fingers smoothing her hair away from her face and the cover from the scrambled bed being draped over her limp, nude body.

"Thank you," Tonita said, and leaned over to kiss her cheek.

For what? Laura wondered as she struggled through the fog. All she had been allowed to do was lie there. She reached for Tonita's hand and tried to squeeze it, but she had no

strength left.

"I'm leaving now," Tonita said.

"Mmm." Laura was still holding her hand. "I need to ask you something," she said weakly, and used the last of her energy to try and pull her closer. "Tell me," Laura whispered. "Tell me..." She could hear herself mumbling and knew she wasn't making any sense. The last

fleeting thought she had before passing out was, What the hell is a pocket rocket? By the next morning, she felt as though she had personally been put in a blender. She nursed her hangover most of the following day and slept at the

edge of the pool the rest of it. At ten-thirty the next evening she was once again at the cabana watching Tonita set them up and deal them out. When the first piiia colada with a double shot of rum was placed in front of her, Laura gently pushed it back and shook her

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head.

"Coffee?" Tonita suggested. Laura smiled and nodded. "I get off at eleven."

"Could we maybe try it with the light on and your clothes off just once?" Laura whispered over the steaming coffee being poured.

"I don't like it that way."

"You've never tried it with me that way."

Tonita's expression suddenly hardened and the playfulness in those exotic eyes disappeared. "I just remembered a previous engagement I have."

Laura spent her last day at Waikiki on the beach. She avoided all cute little cabanas and drank her last pina colada alone in the hotel lounge the evening before her flight back to San Antonio.

Laura finished dressing only minutes before hearing the knock on her apartment door. Ms. Fang announced the arrival of their visitor with her yapping. Laura felt more rested than she had in years. The vacation had done her a world of good.

"How much did that tan cost you?" Mavis asked.

"You don't want to know," Laura assured her. "What's up? You sounded depressed on the phone. Have you changed your mind about letting me keep the bed?"

Mavis laughed and rubbed Ms. Fang gently between the ears. "No darlin'," she drawled, "it's nothin' like that. Let's go out for a drink. I just need to do some jawin' for a while and unwind some."

It was too early for the bar to have more than a handful of customers, so they got their drinks and retired in complete privacy to a small table in the corner under a huge picture of Mae West.

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Their laughter and obvious ease with each other was a relief in itself. It felt good to be together again without the pressure of having to be.

"I missed you some," Mavis admitted. "Susan don't like to clean house, and you know what a slob I am."

"You jumped into this kind of quickly, don't you think?"

"Not really," Mavis said after savoring a mouthful of her margarita. "We've been sort of seein' each other for about a year now."

"You slinking bitch." Laura set her drink down a little harder than she'd intended. A part of her was severely agitated at being made a fool of, while the rest of her couldn't have

cared less what Mavis did with her life. Was Susan the reason things had gone sour between them, or was Susan the result of things having been bad between them for so long?

"Now that we've got these pleasantries out the way, darlin', how was your vacation?" "Wonderful. I had a marvelous time."

"You've had some of us worried. Wanda's bettin' money that you'll try and go straight now, but I came to your defense," Mavis said with a smile

playing at the corners of her mouth. "I told 'em you like pussy too much." "Feel free not to defend me in the future."

"So what's it like? This Hawaya place. Would I like it?"

"Women, water, beach. Your kinda place. Check out these postcards. Would you like to see my postcards?"

"Get tired of carryin' the camera again?"

Later that evening, as Laura prepared for bed, she smiled to herself. She was finally beginning to pull herself together. In affairs of the heart she usually felt destined to

become a failure, but she really liked being single again. Even though she and Mavis had lost interest in each other, they had parted in time to preserve mutual tolerance. There was

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comprehend, but she wasn't in any real hurry to find it, whatever it was. And the thought of dating didn't appeal to her at all. The fling with the bartender in Hawaii had been

enough to convince her of that. Laura had never felt so thoroughly ravished and physically exhausted in her entire life, but not even for a moment did she ever think of it as making love. Laura had heard of women like that before, but had never been with one. It had proved to be a very strange experience. It had been the most impersonal, if not strangely satisfying, night of her life.

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Chapter Two

Mavis unpacked the bag of groceries and put everything away before turning her attention to the box of thawed fish filets sitting in a puddle on the table. She poured white wine into a Pebbles and Bam Bam jelly glass before scrutinizing the dirty dishes brimming the sink and spilling over onto both ends of the counter. They would have to be done before she could start dinner.

By the time Susan came home the kitchen was spotless and the wine bottle empty. Mavis pushed the

button on the microwave and made herself readily available for Susan's embrace.

"It looks so clean in here." Susan kissed her quickly on the lips. "How long until supper?" "We're waitin' for the ding." The microwave dinged before they finished setting the table. A while later they did the dishes together, both liking a clean kitchen for a change, and then took a hot bubble bath. Susan eased into the water first and wilted against the back of the tub. A cloud of peach-scented bubbles clung to the ends of her hair.

"Ready or not," Mavis said as she climbed in and made the water level rise chin-deep. "All day I've been lookin' forward to this."

"Me too." They soaked in silence for several minutes, eyes closed, breathing shallow, torsos foamed and relaxed. Mavis moved her toes slowly up and down Susan's ribcage to the

rhythm of a Connie Francis song playing on the radio.

They had been living together for just over a month now, and even though their year-long affair had been hot and torrid, the transition to a comfortable, passionate relationship had not been smooth. Having similar temperaments kept them at each other constantly at first, but it only added to the excitement of their life together. They fought over the usual

things, and each had a jealous streak that had been known to cause a series of shouting matches, but they always kissed and made up afterwards.

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breakup, and wanting some insight into why things had never worked out for them. Laura would pour her another drink and listen to every word, offering pieces of advice occasionally when pressed. Mavis still cared about Laura in a way that she couldn't explain. There was nothing sexual in their actions — no touching, no murmuring of endearments, no innuendoes or references to past intimacies. They did, however, laugh often and talk about their hopes and dreams. They were more than old lovers. They were friends—best friends. They had spent eight years growing up together before finally growing apart. It was easy to sit back and enjoy each other now that they didn't have to live together any longer. "Last week me and Susan were both late to work because we didn't have clean underwear," Mavis confessed drunkenly one evening after work. "You spoiled me, darlin'. I always had clean underwear when you were in charge of me."

"You'll work out the snags," Laura reassured her.

Susan, however, was apparently uncomfortable with Mavis and Laura's friendship.

"What could you two possibly have to say to each other now?" she yelled when Mavis came home tipsy and finally admitted where and with whom she had been.

The next evening Susan, furious, went to Laura's apartment and confronted Laura. Susan of course had a little guilt of her own to contend with — she had been trying to get Mavis in bed for years, even when Laura and Mavis were still a happy couple.

She pounded on Laura's door and, Mavis found out later, the dog was barking and it was awkward at first, but the hostess in Laura had made it much easier after several

moments. As they sat on the

couch and drank their wine, Susan apparently began to feel more like a fool for being there. The more she tried to renew her dislike for this woman, the harder it became to do so. Mavis could just imagine Susan's reaction. Laura had light brown hair that fell just past her shoulders and seemed to do whatever she wanted it to do. Having what had been

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described at one time as "a frizzy bril o pad" for hair, Susan was envious of anyone who had that layered and highlighted look. She dreamed of having hair like that. Laura also had

dark, piercing brown eyes, a small straight nose, and full glossy lips that looked soft and sensual.

"My guess is you're here about Mavis," Laura had started casually. "She talks about you all the time. I feel like I know you already."

From there Laura told her things about Mavis that would have taken her months or maybe years to find out on her own — or so Susan had admitted later. The more they talked, the more they got along.

With Laura's guidance, things between Susan and Mavis began to shape up nicely. Laura and Susan talked often and had several lunches together. Mavis was their main topic of

conversation, each sharing anecdotes and words of wisdom. Laura offered advice when asked, but generally just listened. Sometimes she would hear from both of them during the course of the day when they were fighting. She listened patiently to both sides and

remained as neutral as she could.

"You're both saying the right things," Laura told Mavis, "but you need to be saying them to each other. I gave this little speech to Susan this morning on the phone, so don't think I'm

picking on you."

After that, Susan and Mavis became closer than they had ever been. They talked and had a better understanding of what they wanted out of their relationship. Amazing, Mavis

thought, what could happen in the course of a month.

Mavis opened her eyes and moved her arms around in the water, stirring up what few bubbles were left. "This is better than an orgasm."

"Hold that thought," Susan said dreamily. She reached for a towel as Mavis pulled out the stopper in the bath tub.

"Up, darlin'. I don't want you sittin' on the drain again. I want you fresh and horny." They dried each other off and went to bed, stepping over dirty clothes and scattered

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shoes. Cleaning the kitchen was as far as Mavis had gotten during her brief burst of energy earlier in the evening.

"My boobs are a little tender. Go easy," Susan said.

Mavis cupped the small breasts gently and licked the swollen nipples with the tip of her tongue. Before she fell asleep, Mavis thought again how sexually satisfying a bubble bath could be.

Mavis had worked as a physical therapist at the outpatient clinic for several years and had finally built up her seniority. She could choose the patients she wanted to work with and could pick her days off as well. She related to women and children better than anyone else in the office, and kept an eye on all

new patients to see if something unusual came up. She liked a challenge.

By eight-thirty she was with her first patient, a nine-year-old girl recovering from a severely broken leg. A few minutes later one of Mavis's coworkers came over and tapped

her on the shoulder. "You've got a phone call," he said gruffly. The buttons on his shirt barely closed near his belt where a beer belly threatened to burst through.

"Take a message. I'm with a patient." It had to be Susan ready to apologize for being so grouchy at breakfast, she thought.

"It sounds like it might be important."

"Then start her out for me." To her little patient Mavis smiled and said, "No dancin' while I'm gone." She walked up to the front, her blonde shaggy hair bouncing with each step, and picked up

the telephone and pushed the only blinking light.

"Mavis Davis," she said. She heard sniffing and choking on the other end, but nothing even vaguely coherent. "Hello. Who's there?"

"Mavis," the near hysterical voice said. "It's Laura."

Mavis felt the tiny hairs on the back of her neck stand up at the sound of her voice. "What's the matter?" Laura suddenly began sobbing in earnest and couldn't catch her

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breath. "Are you hurt? Where are you?"

Mavis waited for answers but got only mumbling in return. She slumped against the desk and noticed that her hands were shaking; a cold sweat had begun to pop out on her brow. Moments later someone else came on the line.

"This is Dr. Rollo's office," the woman said nervously. "Miss Davenport brought her dog in this morning, but I'm afraid we couldn't save her. Miss Davenport is very upset. We're not

sure what to do about her."

"I'll be right over." Mavis hung up, both relieved and anxious. "The Fangster," she muttered as she cal ed Susan's office to leave a message, and then made arrangements to

have her patients covered for the remainder of the morning. Once in her car she took a deep breath and felt the tears stinging the corners of her eyes. Laura was okay. Nothing dreadful had happened to her.

On the way to the vet's office she thought about the poodle. Ms. Fang and Laura had been a package deal from the beginning. Mavis had come from a big family that never had anything but new babies. Pets were a luxury. If you wanted a pet you put a piece of twine around a little brother's neck and made him crawl on all fours. In the movies poor folks always had dogs or chickens or horses. Hollywood poverty, she thought bitterly. Mavis caught a horned toad once and was allowed to keep it only because it ate red ants and didn't take up any space.

She pulled into the parking lot and saw Laura's car. Mavis inspected herself in the rearview mirror, not wanting to go inside, but knowing she had to. Neither of them was very good at this sort of thing.

She went in and nodded to the female assistant who looked strangely professional in a lab coat and blue jeans. Mavis had brought Ms. Fang in several times over the years for

shots and checkups.

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"She's in the back."

Mavis followed the assistant down a short hallway and into a tiny office. Laura was sitting in a chair in the corner of the room, still gasping for air, her face slightly distorted from heart-wrenching sobs. Mavis knelt down beside her and put her arms around her. Before long they were both crying. They used several Kleenexes before Laura whispered, "Thanks for coming. I didn't know who else to call."

Mavis got up and dragged another chair closer. She took Laura's hand and patted it gently. It was then that she saw the dried blood all over the front of her shirt.

Laura trembled and covered her eyes and began crying again, slow painful sobs coming from somewhere deep inside of her. Mavis squeezed her hand and had no idea what else to do. "Can you tel me how it happened?"

Laura released Mavis's grip and unconsciously twisted the end of her shirttail. "We went out this morning like we always do. Three dogs jumped on her just before we got to the park. There was nothing I could do." Her voice was so small and strained that Mavis could barely hear what she was saying. "She was on the leash and I tried to pull her back and pick her up, but one of them got her around the throat and —"

Mavis put her arms around her again. "They could've had rabies, darlin'," she said soothingly into her hair. "They could've bitten you, too."

Laura pushed the sleeve of her flannel shirt up midway to her elbow to reveal several bites that had already begun to turn purple. Mavis jumped back and pushed the sleeve up farther to make sure there were no more.

"Damn! I'm takin' you to the doctor. Right now." "Dr. Rollo cleaned them up already."

"He does dogs and cats! What does he know about people?"

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the cuff. "I can't leave her here."

"You want I should take her somewhere and bury her? Somewhere nice?" Anything. I'll do anything you say. Just stop crying like this. She leaned forward in the chair and gently rubbed Laura's hand again, squeezing it once more for good measure.

Laura was clearly exhausted. Her light brown hair, scrambled from the continued shaking of her head, looked much the same as it did after she woke up. Her eyes were puffy and her nose was red. Mavis recognized the flannel shirt she had on as one Laura liked to sleep in when it was cold. She's here in blue jeans, tennis shoes and her pajamas, she thought fondly. There was a slight tugging at her heart at the sight of her. Even at her worst, Laura was a strikingly beautiful woman.

"I'll be right back. Dry your eyes."

Mavis hurried down the hallway and found the technician in the small waiting area. "Wrap Ms. Fang in somethin' and put her in the trunk of my car, please." Mavis handed over the keys. "It's the red Toyota out front. I'll work on Ms. Davenport some

more. When everything's ready just knock on the door. And send her the bill later."

Mavis went back in the room with a wet wash cloth in her hand. Laura hadn't moved from the chair, but she had her head propped against the wall and her eyes were closed. Mavis knelt down beside her and dabbed the cool rag under her eyes.

"Why don't we take her to your mother's house? She has a nice back yard. Ms. Fang played there when she was a puppy."

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Chapter Three

Later that afternoon Laura couldn't remember much about leaving her mother's house or the ride to the doctor's office. She recalled being in the examining room, answering questions about the dogs that had attacked them, and remembered the pain of the second scrub of the bites, but everything else was more or less a blur. The tears didn't find her again until Mavis opened the door to Laura's apartment and Ms. Fang wasn't there to greet them. Every painful memory of the day's events caught up and

rushed over her with the force of a tidal wave. Laura took the pill handed to her and stood motionless while Mavis put her in a clean T-shirt.

"Lay down on the couch, darlin'. You'll feel better in a few minutes."

Laura allowed herself to be led to the couch where fluffed pil ows awaited her. As she drifted off to sleep there was the ever-present padding of Mavis across the carpet as she collected dog toys, rugs, water bowls and food. When Laura woke up a few hours later all signs that Ms. Fang had ever lived there were gone.

A week later Mavis and Susan found a parking space at Laura's apartment complex and gathered everything up. "Are you sure we're doin' the right thing, darlin'? I mean, what about a grief period? She's sad and everything, but doesn't she need to be sad now?"

"There's more to it than her dog dying," Susan explained patiently. "Ms. Fang was like her family. And she practically died in Laura's arms. Laura needs something to take her mind

off of what happened, so trust me. This'11 work."

They climbed the stairs to Laura's apartment. The black poodle puppy stayed tucked under Susan's arm while Mavis carried its luggage — a squeaking carrot, a rubber T-bone steak, a ball with a bell in it, new rugs to sleep on and a week's supply of food. Laura answered the door in blue jeans and a baggy Dallas Cowboys T-shirt. She let them in and didn't notice the puppy until Susan put it down in the middle of the living room. It went to Laura

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immediately.

Mavis and Susan stood back and watched the two introduce themselves. Laura picked the puppy up and went to the couch, nuzzling its head with her cheek. As tears clouded her eyes she murmured and held it.

Mavis let out a sigh of relief and dug in the bag for the rubber carrot. Laura put the puppy back down on the floor and the three women got on hands and knees in a circle and rolled the ball back and forth.

"She or he?" Laura asked in a small voice, her eyes still watery but shining.

"A she. There's new rugs for a bed and toys and food." Mavis held up the Raising Your Poodle book. "Unlike babies, she comes with directions."

Laura scooped the puppy up in one hand and held it close again, rubbing her cheek against its tight curls. "This is wonderful of you. Both of you. How much was she? And the other things too? I'll write you a check."

"Forget it," Susan said. "This one's on us."

"Please don't argue." Laura put her arms around Mavis and kissed her gently on the lips and went to Susan and did the same. She began to laugh and cry at the same time as the three

of them rolled the squeak ball back and forth.

She named the puppy Jo-Jo and spent countless hours training and playing with it. Jo-Jo slept at the foot of the bed where Ms. Fang used to lie, and

when she wasn't sleeping she pranced around the apartment chewing randomly on the furniture.

Laura wanted nothing to do with the neighborhood any longer. A dog needs a yard, she reasoned, a place she could call her own. With that in mind Laura went house hunting and made an offer within a week on a sprawling ranch house in Shavano Park. They closed the deal before she told anyone, and two weeks later she invited Mavis, Susan, Wanda and Jolly to visit. It had easily been two months since she'd seen any of them.

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They arrived Saturday afternoon, banging on the door and ringing the doorbell like a pack of starving trick-or-treaters. Laura had hugs for everyone and gave them a tour right

away.

"Four bedrooms. My God, this is marvelous!" Wanda squealed. "What will you do with all this room?" "I don't know yet. Jo-Jo loves the back yard. Let me show you."

The inside of the house had been repainted in white, and the smell of the new carpet was fresh in every room. Laura had decorated it herself in muted tones. The kitchen was small in proportion to the rest of the house, but she loved the breakfast nook in the corner and the maple cabinets from floor to ceiling.

"You don't like it," Laura said to Mavis as they watched the others check out the back yard. They could hear Wanda's deep laughter mixed in with clapping and puppy talk. Mavis leaned against the counter and slowly glanced from side to side, taking in the entire kitchen

with one sweep. She pushed her blonde hair away from her forehead and didn't say anything.

Laura turned away from her. "Why do you do this? Why can't you be happy for me like everyone else?"

"I don't even know you anymore." She picked at a thread on the pocket of her canary yellow T-shirt. "Who are you seein' these days? Did she talk you into this?"

"That's none of your business."

"Who is it? You know how impulsive you are, Laura, and we don't know nothin' about this woman."

"Who I see and what I do shouldn't concern you, Mavis. You're out of my life. Do you understand that? If I feel like fucking the Baltimore Orioles, then I'll fuck the goddamn Baltimore Orioles, do you understand me? It's none of your business what I do!"

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Three faces pressed against the glass at the back door before disappearing again almost as quickly. Mavis put her head in her hands and stayed that way for several moments while Laura began unwrapping a box of new dishes she'd ordered, dropping the tissue paper into a garbage bag beside her. Their fighting was different these days. Laura found herself more willing to speak her mind and less willing to be pushed around.

"You want something to drink?"

Mavis brushed past her and was out the back door without answering. A little while later Wanda came in and began helping her put away the dishes.

"She still cares about you," Wanda said in a low, serious voice. "Maybe she's jealous of you buying a house. I don't know. You're more independent now. You're able to function without her.

It's a lot of things, I'm sure. Not to mention you wanting to fuck the Baltimore Orioles." "You weren't exactly supposed to hear that," Laura said as her cheeks turned hot.

"I've talked to her about this several times, Laura. She's confused about—"

"She was confused the first time I saw her. She wants her hands in my life and I won't have it. I function perfectly well without Mavis Davis. She's the one with the problem. Not me."

"You two need to talk."

"We can't talk. All we do is fight."

"She gets scared sometimes," Wanda said carefully. "She feels like she's losing you." "It's a little late for that, don't you think?"

They continued working in silence. A while later the others came in to help. By the time they left, all was well. Mavis and Susan were contemplating getting away for a week. Laura was glad they'd gotten over the rough spots in their relationship.

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Chapter Four

Laura got caught up in the unexpected beauty of the Texas Hill country and bypassed the entrance to the state park where Mavis, Susan, Jolly and Wanda had rented a cabin for a week. She slowed for a small herd of deer near the ranger station and became so

mesmerized by them that she pulled over and shut off the car.

A while later she located their cabin and recognized Jolly's truck in the driveway. There was no answer at the door, but she heard Wanda around

back. Laura found her stretched out in a drooping hammock, tossing peanuts to a squirrel. "You made it!" she said, struggling to stand while the squirrel darted up a tree.

"Stay where you are," Laura insisted. "This place is beautiful. I can't believe I never let her bring me up here before."

Mavis had talked about Garner State Park for years—the clear river that ran through it, the wildlife and the scores of hiking trails that crisscrossed hundreds of rocky, wooded acres. In those days, the more Mavis had praised it, the less Laura had wanted to see it. Why had I been so stubborn? she wondered. Why hadn't I listened?

"The girls are out bike riding. They should be back any time now. How are you?"

"I'm okay. It's good to get away." In fact, she was grateful for the invitation to visit for the day. She wasn't in the mood to see her mother.

"So stay. We've got plenty of room."

The smell of coffee drifted in on the tail end of a breeze, and Laura caught the faint scent of bacon not far behind. It made her feel safe for a moment, and she rubbed her arms through her thin windbreaker. She heard Susan, Jolly and Mavis ride up on their bicycles, chattering away and ready with generous hugs for her. She watched as Mavis hurried over to the hammock and began swinging it dangerously back and forth, while Wanda held on for dear life all the while shouting obscenities.

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little kids since we got here."

Mavis didn't stop tormenting her until Wanda threatened to throw up. Laura had always liked seeing them play together. She sighed and realized how much she had missed being a part of things.

Later on, the five of them strolled down the shady park road. Dodging deer droppings, Mavis described all the wildlife they had seen since their arrival. As they fed a loaf of bread to the ducks at the river's edge, Laura recognized the sharp scent of cedar close by. It was a nice, clean smell, one that she would remember for a long time. She leaned against a cypress tree and took comfort in its rough texture on her shoulder.

"How many times did you try to get me up here?" she asked Mavis, who had just finished feeding the ducks the last of the bread. Susan, Jolly and Wanda were up ahead skipping rocks across the water.

"Plenty. You never were much on tryin' new things. Especially if it was somethin' I wanted to do."

"You still have that knack for seeing the worst in me.

They went back to the cabin and made sandwiches and mixed drinks. The simplest of meals seemed to taste so much better out in the open fresh air. A ham and cheese sandwich

became a delicacy.

The kitchen counter had been converted into a completely stocked bar. Oreos and Cheetos were piled high.

"Camping staples," Mavis explained as she nodded toward all the junk food. "Why don't you stay the night?" Susan offered. "There's an extra bed."

"I have to work tomorrow," Laura said. Her

company was about to launch a big project, and Laura was part of the marketing team. "And there's Jo-Jo. Poodles are so possessive. She gets in my closet and pees if I'm gone longer

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than she thinks I should be."

"Maybe I oughta try that," Mavis said, giving Susan a pensive look.

Laura stretched her legs and took the drink Mavis had made for her. The five women sat around the primitive table in the combination living-room-dining-room-bedroom and gossiped about mutual friends and the female ranger who had kept driving by the cabin all day long.

"Fess up," Laura said. "How much do you guys talk about me?" "You?" Jolly said, looking away from her guiltily.

"Oh, lots," Mavis chirped. "Every night over cowgirl coffee we sit around the campfire and wonder when little ol' Laura's gonna wise up."

"Christ," Jolly muttered.

Laura sensed how uncomfortable they all were by the amount of squirming that took place and the loudness of the ice rattling in plastic cups. She laughed, feeling a sense of relief at not having been forgotten by them. Mavis, the only one willing to tell her the truth, laughed with her, while the others sat back and watched the exchange like a group of floundering attorneys itching for a recess.

"You're not even goin' through the motions anymore, Laura," Mavis said. "You work all day and piddle all night. You hardly ever go out. No one sees you anymore. If you'd just get

some kinda life goin', you'd never hear another peep outta me about it." "We should all be so lucky," Wanda said dryly.

"They think you need a shrink," Mavis said. The other three wilted and groaned in their rickety wooden chairs, while Laura chuckled at their embarrassment.

"And what do you think, Mavis?" Laura asked.

Mavis smiled engagingly. "I think you need a good lay." "Hasn't that always been your answer for everything?"

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perfect white teeth. "Not everything."

The following Sunday Laura and her mother sat on the porch swing and listened to the faint tinkling of a distant ice cream truck. They kept up a steady rhythm as the swing creaked on the offbeat against the soft thud of Laura's foot giving it a timely shove. She had been a good daughter today. She'd brought over sliced brisket, corn on the cob, fresh baked bread and a bouquet of flowers purchased from a street urchin at a busy intersection on the way over. The corn on the cob alone would have put her in good graces with her mother. The flowers were an added bonus.

They had finally settled down, having barely escaped the beginnings of an argument less than an hour earlier. Laura knew the warning signs and was forever steering them away from dangerous topics. Just once she would like to leave from her usual

Sunday visit in a good mood, feeling loved, appreciated and accepted for what she was. So far no such Sunday had ever existed.

"Louise Barknagel has a throat infection," Mrs. Davenport said in that offhanded way she had when she wanted Laura's undivided attention.

"Oh?" Laura managed. It was warm for an April evening, with the ever present buzz of a mosquito as the first sign that it was time to go home.

"Her grandson took her to the doctor when she got sick. He's a wonderful young man. Thinks the world of her."

Laura felt the beginning of a headache somewhere along her temple.

"Your father and I used to talk about having grandchildren some day. He had such plans for them."

"Please, Mother," Laura said quietly. "If I could put them on my Visa, I'd get you all the grandchildren you want." She found her purse and keys on the small table inside the door

and was back out on the porch with her mother right behind her. "I need to get going. It's late."

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"You're thirty-one years old Laura. How much time do you think you have? How much time do you think / have?" They looked at each other for a long moment before the tears welled up in the corners of her mother's eyes. "If you hadn't gotten mixed up with that woman none of this would have ever happened."

"Mavis has nothing to do with it. It's me, Mother. I'm a lesbian. Get used to it because this is all there

is. No son-in-law and no grandchildren. Just me. I'm leaving now. I'll call you tomorrow." Just one Sunday, she thought on her way down the steps. Just one Sunday visit without this.

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Chapter Five

The organ player's rendition of "Spanish Eyes," along with Mavis's soft humming, was more than enough entertainment as far as Laura was concerned. She took in the black-suited

waiters scribbling on pads and reciting the string of salad dressings available. She had put this off as long as she dared. Al believable excuses had been depleted.

"Why do you like this place?" Daisy grumbled. She picked up the plastic menu that doubled as a placemat and squinted to read the small print. "They even have fake ivy running along the

window."

"The Kmart of steak houses, darlin'," Mavis said proudly, "and we get to hear Alfredo play all those romantic tunes that I just love."

"By all means," Laura agreed dryly. She didn't begin to relax until the waiter came over to take their orders.

"So why haven't we heard from you in four months?" Daisy asked Laura. Her stringy blonde hair hung loosely on her shoulders, with the ends a tad bit lighter than the rest. She was one of those women who actually looked like her name — thin, feminine, blonde, wispy. Always up and agreeable. She reminded Laura of someone who hadn't quite recovered from the sixties. Sandals and beads were the only items missing.

Laura unwrapped a cracker and carefully spread butter on it. "I've been busy." It was true. Now that she was head of the marketing group, her workload had more than doubled. "I just got back from a seminar in St. Louis."

"A four-month-long seminar?" Mavis clucked. "I was born at night, darlin', but not last night." Laura snatched up two pink packages of artificial sweetener and tapped them against the

side of the table. "It's easier staying away." They hadn't been together five minutes and Laura already regretted accepting the dinner invitation. "You both look thinner."

Mavis smiled and inspected her salad carefully. "We've been playin' soccer. Can you imagine, darlin'? Me playin' soccer? I lost ten pounds in three weeks."

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"And we're into our second week of a rugby clinic," Daisy added. "Rugby?"

"Oh, yes. We really like it, too. Beats the hell out of jazzercize and all that other crapola. You should come with us. Meet some new people. Old people, too."

"I don't think I'm the rugby type."

Daisy cleared her throat loudly at the insinuation that one had to be a certain "type" to appreciate sports. Laura smiled and gently tossed her salad with her fork. She had to

admit that she had missed these two. Mavis always made it a point to keep in touch with her no matter what turn their social lives had taken, but they had gradually drifted apart the last couple of years. Daisy was Mavis's third lover since the split with Susan two summers ago. Ironically, Laura had liked all of Mavis's lovers.

"Several old friends have been askin' about you. Jolly and Wanda in particular." Mavis fluffed up the back of her hair. "You've been skippin' out on everybody. They're playin' rugby, too, darlin'. It'll look like old times out there. You sure you're not interested in rugby school? It'll be fun!"

"I don't think it's for me. Thanks."

The awkwardness was back as each turned her attention to her salad. It crossed Laura's mind as she struggled with another pack of crackers why she had chosen to isolate herself from them in the first place. There's nothing worse than being around happy people when your own life is so screwed up, she

thought. At least work kept her busy. She smiled as Mavis put her fork down and batted those long lashes at her.

"You're not happy, darlin'. I know you. You ain't foolin' me for a minute."

The sound of crunching lettuce filled the air until the waiter took away their empty bowls and cellophane wrappers. Laura stirred her tea again for lack of anything better to do. "How long has it been since you've..." Mavis groped for the right word. "... been out?"

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"A long time. I like it that way."

"The next step is a convent," Daisy warned good-naturedly. "I'm too old for a convent."

"Hell, darlin'. Convents take anybody."

Their orders arrived and they began talking about soccer and rugby again, the only topics that seemed safe enough at the moment. Laura felt restless, much the way she had before signing the papers on her house, or when she woke up on Sunday mornings knowing she would have to spend the day with her mother.

"Saturday a few of us are gettin' together at our place for dinner," Mavis said. "Susan's got a new lover and we're tryin' to ease her into the group. When was the last time you saw

Jolly and Wanda?"

"About six months ago at one of the malls."

"You should be ashamed of yourself! Friends ain't that easy to come by. Dinner on Saturday, darlin'. I won't take no for an answer."

Laura parked in the street behind Jolly's truck and tucked her sunglasses safely into her purse. The moment she stepped on the porch, she could hear muffled voices from inside and resisted the urge to turn around and go back home.

"Look who's here!" Mavis announced. "Late as usual."

Laura got a hug from Daisy and little more than a slight nod from Jolly. It's that remark I made months ago about Mavis getting custody of all our friends, she thought wearily. "This is Trish," Mavis said, introducing a young woman sitting on the sofa next to Susan. She wasn't anything like what Laura had expected. Twenty-three at the most, she had shoulder-length black hair neatly spiked on top and dark eyes that registered boredom. Laura nodded politely.

"It's been ages since I've seen you," Susan said as she jumped up to give Laura a kiss on the cheek. "How's Jo-Jo?"

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"She's fine. What's this I hear about you two?" "We moved in together about three weeks ago."

Mavis handed Laura a glass with margarita slush spilling over the edge. "I think you know everybody else 'cept maybe Robin. That's her talkin' to Wanda. Wanda! Laura's here."

Mavis turned to Laura. "She might be mad at you," Mavis whispered. "I can't remember for sure." "Wel , well. You made it," Wanda said coolly. "I thought you'd crap out on us again like always." Oh, yes, Laura though. They're both stewing over the "who got the friends" remark.

"Goodness, no," Laura said sweetly. "This bunch is always such a joy to be around."

Wanda laughed despite not wanting to. "Have you met Robin McKavat? Robin, this is Laura Davenport. One of Mavis's old lovers."

Laura smiled and nodded, taking immediate offense to being called an "old" anything. "She trades us in like used cars," she explained. Laura looked into the most arresting green eyes

she had ever seen, eyes the color of clover, friendly and amused eyes. "Once we get too many miles on us she's off searching for a new model."

"How many miles is too many miles?" Robin asked with a hint of a smile.

"I'm not sure," Laura said. "The warranty's a little different each time." To Wanda she said, "Here. Drink this. Mavis makes the most ghastly margaritas." She handed over the

brimming glass and noticed Robin's cane for the first time. It was a dark, glossy mahogany, impressive and mysterious, and stayed tucked close to Robin's right side. "Tequila gives me a headache," Laura said casually. "It's Mavis's way of making sure I leave early."

During the course of the evening, as the laughter and the drinking increased, Laura finally began to loosen up a little, but still couldn't quite get in step with them. She glanced over at Trish, Susan's new lover, whose smile seemed forced the few times Laura had seen it. Around Mavis and her friends Laura felt an alienation of her own but took little comfort in knowing she wasn't the only one having a hard time.

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few remaining pent-up frustrations on her. There were the usual remarks about the absurdity of arts and crafts as a hobby, and references to the piles of

money Laura made. Mavis was especially good with small groups, always insisting on the spotlight and able to get the best of anyone willing to give her the chance.

"Will you be there Saturday?" Mavis asked her again for the third time. "We can pick you up on the way over."

Wanda and Robin were at the sink chipping ice for drinks. "The soccer field is at Olmos Basin," Wanda said. "It's in the park."

"I know how to get there," Laura said. "I'l go, okay?" "How come I don't believe you?" Mavis said.

Laura made a pyramid with the black olives and shrugged. "I don't know. It's not like I've made a habit of lying to you, is it?"

"Touche, darlin'. I know. I know. That's my department. Stop flauntin' your honesty. I ain't in the mood."

Laura laughed. "My honesty's one of the few things you've ever depended on me for. That and your laundry."

She arranged the pickle spears that separated the green and black olives on the platter, while Wanda and Robin took turns filling the ice bucket. "Our first argument was over laundry," Laura said as she gave Mavis a thump on the nose. "Remember that? I caught you washing the underwear with the dish towels. I nearly gagged."

Wanda snorted, and Mavis looked over at her menacingly. "It was like World War Three! I never heard so much yellin' in all my life!"

"You argued over underwear and dish towels?" Wanda asked.

"She made me throw them cute little dish towels out, too! They had these little penguins on 'em that I just loved."

(40)

"You threw them out?" Wanda bellowed. "Weren't they washed in detergent?"

"There was no reasoning with her," Mavis said with her palms in the air. '1 tried everything. It was like talkin' to a wall. After that, the dish towels and the underwear stayed in

different rooms when she sorted the clothes. It was the most amazin' thing I ever saw." She picked up the relish tray and followed Wanda out with the ice bucket. "And I just loved them little penguin dish towels. I just loved 'em."

Laura screwed lids back on the empty jars and lined them up along the counter. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Robin near the sink leaning steadily on her cane.

"You nearly gagged?" Robin asked.

Laura chuckled away her embarrassment. They looked at each other for a moment. It was a brief, friendly exchange, and she was once again enchanted by those piercing green eyes.

"She's exaggerating a little." Laura shrugged. "I never actually kept the underwear and dish towels in different rooms."

"I see."

Laura watched her pour wine into a stemmed glass as the chatter reached them from the other room. Robin gripped the cane with her right hand and shook that wonderful red hair out of her eyes. She had on crisp blue jeans, with white Reeboks and a light green T-shirt that seemed to blend right in

with those exotic eyes. The cane gave her a stately, noble look, almost like a young Barbara Stanwick ready to take on the world. Laura found her very attractive.

"Who's Jo-Jo?" Robin asked.

The question caught Laura by surprise, but she came to life again quickly. She liked Robin's hair, the way it was layered and feathered back in a fashionable style. The color was hard to describe, but she thought of the way new pennies might look in the sun.

"I overheard you and Susan talking earlier," Robin explained. "She mentioned someone named Jo-Jo." "Jo-Jo's my poodle. Susan always asks about her."

References

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