Grumpy Old Ladies

“I’m sorry that you felt like you couldn’t tell me.” Then she frowned. “No, that makes it sound like you didn’t have good reason to—”

“It’s enough that you’re here now,” Laurie said, interrupting her, and Rhea nodded.

“That’s the second time I’ve heard that recently,” Donna said, giving Magda a sad smile, “but no. It’s not enough. Ollie, bless his soul, he could be kind of a prick.”

Rhea snickered, and both Laurie and Magda gave her the exact same look; unamusement.

Donna said, “I should have stood up for you.”

“You didn’t know,” Laurie said, softly.

“I still should have. I didn’t stand up to Ollie about anything. Not really. Not to his face. We had a way of not really challenging each other to get along. I’m pretty sure he thought I voted straight Republican.”

“Did you?” Rhea asked, again getting the same stare from both Laurie and Magda.

“God, no,” Donna said, slouching a little in her chair, “but I didn’t stand up for what I believed in, and I let him define me. We always kind of stayed out of each other’s way when it came to different areas. I ran the house, he… Ollie was a good man, but…” She drifted off and shook her head. “He grew up in a small town. He didn’t—no. No, I’m… I’m not gonna make excuses for him.”

She leaned forward, elbows on the edge of the table, and looked down at her hands, and so it was that she had a good view when Magda reached over and laid a hand over hers. Laurie did the same a moment later.

“I’m sorry,” Donna said, as she felt the tears welling up. “I’m…” She made a sound in her throat, fighting the tightness, and then withdrew her hands to use her napkin to wipe at her eyes.

“You didn’t need to say that,” Laurie said.

“Yes she did,” Rhea said. For a third time, Magda and Laurie gave her a withering stare, but Rhea just looked steadily at Donna and nodded. “Not for our sake, but…you know. Sometimes you’ve just gotta say stuff like that. Put it out there in the world. I get it.”

That was the moment when Donna realized that Rhea was good enough for her daughter, and that made her smile.

***

“See the one in the pink shoes?” Rhea said, leaning over and pointing. “She’s married to the one that just subbed in. The other blonde one there.”

Donna watched the two women in powder blue uniforms—guards, Rhea had called them—briefly reach out and touch hands as they settled into their rhythm, and blinked. They’d barely looked at each other, but they had a good sense of where the other one would be. Donna knew absolutely nothing about basketball, no matter who was playing, but it was easy to tell the difference between players who just played together and could make it work, and the couple in love.

She still didn’t quite understand how the different kinds of scoring counted for different points, but she could reliably count on the volume of Rhea’s cheering to tell her how important each score was. When Rhea had approached her after dinner and asked if she wanted to go to an event the following night, Donna had readily agreed without asking for any details. A WNBA game was not what she had imagined.

“Did you play?” Donna asked.

Rhea made a face and laughed. “God no. I’m terrible at this.”

“Oh, I just…” Donna blinked and looked up. “I just thought… you’re really tall, so—”

“What? I’m, like, five-nine,” she replied, laughing even harder. “Those girls down there tower over me.”

“Oh, I…” Donna looked back and forth, but it was hard to imagine. “I think my scale is off. You and Magda are, like, the tallest women I’ve ever met.”

Rhea just smiled politely. She had a broad grin that split her face, and cheekbones that shined when she smiled, and it was easy to understand what drew Laurie to her. She had a big presence, and little Laurie had always been so shy and introverted. She needed someone like this to draw her out of her shell. Someone who could say fuck very loudly in a crowd, and not care who heard.

It occurred to Donna that Laurie had been shy and introverted, but that had started to change when she went away to college. She was still a mile away from anything like an extrovert, but… The previous year, just before Ollie passed, they went out to dinner with Laurie and the restaurant had gotten her order wrong. When she was little, Laurie would have just eaten what she was given and not wanted to make a fuss, but instead Laurie had politely flagged the waitress and pointed out the mistake. If they’d been together for two years, maybe Rhea was already having an effect on her.

Donna tried to watch the game, and was appropriately awed by women doing something she herself couldn’t do even if she spent years practicing, but her heart had never been in competitive sports. It was hard to care about 65-66 when she could barely keep track of which team had which score. The whole thing moved too fast for her to follow, especially because Donna was really just waiting for her moment.

“Can I ask you something?” Donna said, at the end of a period.

Rhea’s eyebrows rose, but not as much as Donna would have expected. “Sure?”

“How did you know you were gay?”

Rhea coughed, or laughed, or cleared her throat, or swallowed something wrong. Donna couldn’t be sure. She had a far away look in her eye when she turned, though, and Donna was fairly certain she had overstepped.

“Oh my God,” Rhea said. “My first baby gay!”

Donna just blinked. “A what?”

“You’re my first baby gay! Usually, I’m the one reaching out to my friends that’ve been out longer than me. This is so cool!”

“What is?”

Instead of answering her, though, Rhea just gave her a very sharp look and said, “You know, Laurie’s brothers and sisters all think it’s funny to call you two girlfriends, since you’re spending so much time together now, but that’s not that far off, huh?”

“What’s not far off?” Donna asked, feeling a little more defensive.

“I’ll tell them not to joke about it.”

“Joke about what?” Donna whined. “What are you talking about?”

Rhea leaned in a little closer next to her and pointed out into the crowd, finger moving in an arc from right to left.

Donna tried to follow her finger, but only felt more and more lost. “What? What am I missing?”

“Do you see them all?”

“The women?” Donna asked, shrugging.

“Yes,” Rhea said, dragging out the vowel sound to add some meaning to the word, “and?”

Donna looked harder. It was a lot of women. Certainly some men, but mostly women… in groups of two. Turning to each other to the exclusion of everyone else. Holding hands.

“It’s okay,” Rhea said, nudging her with her elbow. “You’re not the only one.”

It wasn’t until that moment, as she looked out at a sea of smiling faces, that she realized that on some level, the real question she’d been asking was am I the only one that feels like this?

“I’ll make sure they stop joking about it,” Rhea said. “It’s not a punchline. We’re not a punchline.”

Donna nodded, grateful for the sense that someone was looking out for her, but she also felt an immediate and acute sense of loss that she couldn’t quite place. If she had been sober, she might have asked herself, why would making sure no one calls Magda my girlfriend make me sad, but Donna had had a few beers to help her get into the mood, and she couldn’t quite pull those thoughts together.

“Wait,” she said, “is this why you brought me here? Are you a shaman? You knew I needed to talk about this so you brought me to a safe space to talk?”

Rhea’s eyebrows raced for her hairline. “What? No! I just like going to Sky games.”

Donna nodded, accepting this, and then looked back at the game for a moment. “You know who would be into this? Magda. She would totally be at home like this. Yelling at the refs. Screaming her head off at the other team.”

“Maybe next time you two come to town, we could all go? Laurie is bored to tears, but if she had you to talk to I bet she’d come, and me and Mags can watch the game.”

“Oh no,” Donna said, shaking her head vigorously. “No. I mean, yes, game, good idea, but don’t call her Mags. She hates that.”

“She does?”

“Yeah. Hates it.”

“Shit, I’ve been calling her that for a while.” Rhea sucked a breath in through her teeth.

“I call her Em, but I think I’m the only one.”

“So, what should I call her? Magda is a little… formal for me, and I… I give nicknames. It’s a thing.”

“You could call her Maggy. I know some of her coworkers call her that, and I’ve never heard her complain about it.” Donna thought for a moment, and added, “Really, though, you should just ask her.”

“Yeah?”

She nodded. “Yeah. She respects being up front and honest.”

“Okay. So… when are you gonna tell her you have a crush on her?”

Donna froze, shoulders rising slightly toward the ear, but before she could respond Rhea waved her hands back and forth in front of her.

“Forget I said that. I didn’t mean to push you. You’ll talk to her when you’re ready.”

“Thanks,” Donna said, blushing fiercely. “If I, uh… if I have any more questions, can I ask you?”

Rhea smiled, for a long, long moment. “I’d be honored to be your gay sherpa.”

Donna did not merely laugh; she snorted, which she normally hated but in that one instance didn’t mind because Rhea just seemed so damn nice. Good for Laurie, she thought.

***

“How’re you doing?” Magda asked, covertly, head leaned to the side but without turning toward her or attempting to make eye contact. The party wasn’t loud, not yet, but there were a lot of people in a big room, which meant that dozens of conversations were echoing just enough to raise the background noise level to a dull roar.

Donna took another slightly-more-than-a-sip of her gin and tonic, and nodded. “Fine.” Which was a lie.

“Mm-hm.” From the sound of it, Magda didn’t buy it any more than Donna meant it. “I still think you look great.”

Donna took a long breath, and muttered, “Thanks.”

“Do you want to dance?”

Donna blinked, and paused, and then regretted the pause because, before she could answer, someone approached them.

“Maggy!” said a younger, dark haired, dark skinned man. “Hey!”

Magda jumped to her feet, smiling broadly. “Enrique! I didn’t know you’d be here!”

“Maggy, this is my wife, Ynez!” Donna almost hadn’t noticed the shy, extremely pregnant girl behind him. “Ynez, this is Magda.”

“The famous Magda,” Ynez said, one arm cradled around her belly and the other extended for a handshake.

“Pleasure,” Magda said, giving her a firm shake and smiling broadly at Ynez’s swollen belly. “Guys, this is my friend, Donna.”

There was something peculiar about the introduction that hit Donna like a splash of cold water. It was subtle, though, and it took Donna a minute to realize that Magda had stepped back and beside her, placing them on equal footing. Suddenly, all the panic from earlier came bubbling back up.

The day before they’d left, Donna had, with the best of intentions, peeked at the clothes Magda had packed for their trip. Her friend had a beautiful purple satin dress, sleeveless with a modest neck cut hanging on her closet door in a see-through dry cleaner’s bag, and that made her extremely excited. Donna owned a dress with a similar level of shine, in a beautiful deep wine color that accentuated the way her cheeks flushed, and it would pair perfectly.

Her dress did not compliment the skirt-blouse-jacket combo Magda had worn instead, though. The reds and blues contrasted too much, like they were about to get on stage and debate something, and she felt her pulse racing that they were standing right next to each other. Everyone would see them clashing visually, and she’d embarrass Magda.

The idea of embarrassing Magda in front of her coworkers put her in such a dark mental space that she missed at least some of the conversation between Magda and Enrique, so she tried to catch up.

“—made it work,” Enrique was saying, turned slightly to address his wife. Ynez was looking back and forth between her husband and Magda with a big smile, which Enrique quickly mirrored. “I know.”

“No,” Magda said, shaking her head. “Come on. You can’t—”

“I can,” he said, laughing.

“You can’t give me credit,” she said, wielding her index finger like a knife, “for you putting in the work, in night school, for five years, and getting that degree.”

“I can,” he repeated, smiling broadly. “You’re not the boss of me.”

Ynez looked up at him, giving him a beaming smile he probably wasn’t even aware of, and Donna thought, that used to be me.

“No,” Magda said, giving him a smile that was equally proud, “I’m not. Not anymore. So how is accounting treating you here?” Then, before he could respond, she barreled right on, adding, “We haven’t talked in a while! How are you doing? How is Cervantes?”

Ynez and Enrique both laughed, but Donna stood all she could stand of letting the conversation pass her by, and said, “Who’s Cervantes?”

“My pet turtle,” Enrique said. “Cervantes is doing great. I’ll tell him you asked. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled.”

“I’m sure,” Magda said, laughing. “How is your dad doing? How is Beanie?”

Enrique stiffened, just a little, and Ynez immediately moved to support him. One hand on his hip, the other reaching up across his back to rest on his shoulder. It was a familiar move for Donna, something done in advance of hard news, and she felt her body poised to do the same thing for her own friend.

“Uncle Bernardo passed,” Enrique said. “Eight months ago. Emphysema.”

Magda just blinked, clearly shocked, but before Donna could enact her plan, Magda grabbed her hand and held it. “I’m so sorry,” she said, still addressing the couple.

“No, no,” he replied, and though his smile was pained, it was also genuine. “He lived to see his first great grandbaby. He got six more years because of you.” Each syllable of six more years was punctuated with a stabbing, pointed finger.

“Wait,” Ynez said, stepping away from her husband just a little. “So the woman who pushed you and got you off the plant floor was the same one who saved Beanie’s life? You never told me that.”

“He had a heart attack,” Magda said, half turning toward Donna. “Fell over right in the middle of the floor between the Black line and the Red line. I just… happened to be right around the corner. Heard Duc start shouting, and…”

“And,” Enrique added, meaningfully, “happened to have paid attention to that super boring first aid training on the defibrillator, and stayed cool in a crisis, and rode in the ambulance with him.”

Again, still turned toward her, Magda said, “Beanie always used to say he was gonna work right up until the day he died. When he retired right after that, I really hoped he was making changes in his life.”

Ynez laughed, and Enrique did too. “Beanie was Beanie,” he said, “down to the last drop. When the doctor told him he had stage four, the first thing he did was light up a cigar. The doctor was pissed.”

“Wait,” Donna said, blinking. “He lit up a cigar in the doctor’s office?”

“Didn’t bat an eye. He said, what are you gonna do? Give me double cancer?”

“Down to the last drop,” Magda said, smiling and shaking her head.

“I don’t miss the constant coffee jokes,” Ynez said, chiming in with a perfectly calculated smirk.

“Oh!” Donna said. “The last drop! I just got it!”

Magda gave her hand a squeeze, which was surprising because Donna had almost forgotten they were holding hands, and then let go. “I’ll be right back. Wait here.”

As Magda moved away, Donna clasped her hands in front of her, and smiled at the couple. “How far along are you?”

“Seven months,” Ynez said, smiling.

“Oh,” Donna said, staring at Ynez’ cheeks, “look at that, you are glowing. How is the pregnancy going?”

Ynez smiled again, this time with her head shrinking a little into her shoulders, and held up her crossed index and middle fingers. “Pretty well so far. She’s already lined up, head right up against the cervix.”

Donna leaned in, practically buzzing, and said, “Do you think she’ll come early?”

Ynez shrugged, still beaming. “Happens a lot with the women in my family.”

She smiled wistfully. “I loved being a mom. Even being pregnant. The last one was pretty rough, with the twins, but I was—”

“Oooh,” Ynez said, interrupting, “twins. Yikes.”

She nodded, and she felt her eyes flare for just a moment. “Yikes is right. I was as ready and prepared as I was gonna be, and it was still a…” She trailed off, noticing the faintest sliver of fear lurking underneath the other woman’s smile, and waved her hand. “Sorry, I don’t know what I’m babbling about.”

Ynez just cocked her head. “Have you ever really talked to anyone about how hard it was?”

“I mean, you,” Donna said, laughing, “just now. Obviously.”

The glowing little Latina knitted her fingertips together underneath her belly, and shrugged her shoulders a little. “You’d be surprised how many times, since I’ve been pregnant, that another mom has come over to me and, out of nowhere, just started telling me about the worst parts of their experiences.”

“Oh my God,” Donna said, raising her hand to her mouth. “I’m so sorry. I just, I mean… I did exactly that.”

This time, Ynez waved her off playfully. “I’m used to it. I’m a therapist. I will say, though, that every time I’ve asked those moms, the ones with the horror stories, if they’ve ever really had a chance to work through how difficult it was, if they had someone they could talk to who would really listen, the answer is always no.”

Donna opened her mouth to respond, and came up empty. She licked her lips to buy herself time, and was saved when Magda reappeared with both hands full of champagne flutes.

“Okay,” she said, holding out one hand toward the couple, “don’t worry, they’re all just sparkling grape juice.”

“Thank you!” Ynez said, brightly, as she took hers.

Donna smiled gratefully as she took one as well, and then Magda held hers up. “To Beanie. The best damn mechanic we ever had, and the only man I ever met that couldn’t whistle.”

“To Beanie,” the rest of them said, more or less in unison.

As she sipped the grape juice and smiled privately at the joy of being included, she couldn’t help but fall back into a memory. At her parents house, when she and Ollie were still dating. When they’d told her parents that she was pregnant, with Janet, and Ollie had gotten them all champagne. She’d gotten it all the way to her lips before she’d realized she couldn’t drink it. Ollie, bless his heart, had constantly ordered her alcoholic drinks when she couldn’t have them. He meant well, but…

She’d never begrudged him for drinking in front of her, even when she couldn’t and really wanted to, but seeing Magda being that thoughtful, and that courteous, was simultaneously hard and wonderful. She didn’t like thinking ill of Ollie. For all his faults, he’d been a kind and attentive husband and partner.

At the same time, though, it really was no comparison.

“Come on,” Magda said, turning to her, “Let’s dance.”

This time, Donna was so deep in a moment of awe toward her that she couldn’t help but go along with it. Before she knew it Magda had taken her hand, and she was following the tall brunette out into the crowd.

The songs came quickly, one after another, with a lot of high energy. Some of them she didn’t recognize, but she’d always thought herself a pretty good dancer. She’d always been able to move her body, and she certainly held her own. Magda, meanwhile, had a unique style that was as hypnotizing as it was incredible to behold. There was a lot of tossing her head around as she moved, and the way her short hair whipped back and forth was mesmerizing.

She did her best to keep up. She did her best to stay on the same wavelength as Magda, and once she found it she never wanted to let it go. Once they were on the same page, it was effortless. Everything melted away. It was just the two of them, alone with the music.

She was alive with the rhythm, having such an amazing moment, and when she came out of a turn to find Magda suddenly much closer to her, her breath caught. The music quieted, cross-fading with another, much slower song, the first slow song in a while, but Donna barely noticed. All she could see was Magda stepping in, and leaning down. All she could feel was the way she rose up on her toes, stretching to meet the taller woman, as Magda took the lead.

“But,” Donna whispered, as they got very close, “your…what about your…”

Magda cupped her cheeks, taking Donna’s face in her hands, and gave a coy smile. “Let ’em watch.”

Donna’s heart raced so that she thought it would surge from her chest and onto the dance floor. Magda paused for just a second, and when Donna didn’t object, she closed the remaining short distance and their lips touched. It felt like an electric shock, but instead of flinching it made Donna’s every nerve ending come alive. Magda’s kiss was tentative at first, slow and very gentle. Donna answered her, opening her lips and shyly touching Magda’s lower lip with the tip of her tongue. Her arms seemed to have a mind of their own, and they wrapped around Magda, pulling her closer.

Magda’s long fingers entwined in her hair as the kiss deepened. It occurred to her that this would mess up her hair, but the concern was so insignificant compared to the avalanche of feelings stirring up inside her it was very easy to let it go. Donna made a small whimper in her throat. She didn’t remember ever feeling this excited, this terrified, this aroused, this eager, all from a single kiss.

Someone bumped into Magda, and she kissed Donna one more time before lifting her head up. She wrapped her arms around Donna, cradling her head protectively against her chest, and started to sway to the music, following the flow of the crowd around them. She swept Donna’s neck with her fingertips and murmured, “Oh, well, that was… that was…”

“Mm,” Donna agreed. Magda’s body felt wonderful against hers. She loved the feel of her silky shirt under her cheek, how Magda’s warmth radiated through it. She thought about opening the buttons, one by one, and kissing the exposed skin. She could feel the fire burning on her cheeks, and thought everyone could see what she was thinking just by looking at her face. They were both breathing fast.

Donna peeked up at Magda’s wonderful, dark eyes and whispered, “Can we go back to the hotel now?”

Magda glanced at the clock. “In an hour, I think. There’s still these announcements coming up.”

Donna groaned and pressed her forehead against Magda’s chest. Magda kissed her hair. “I know, I’m sorry! I didn’t know it would be so… so… I didn’t plan this.”

As if on cue, the music faded out and people started to return to tables. Magda took Donna by the hand and she followed her meekly. Her cheeks were still burning, and she had trouble naming all the feelings welling up inside her.

The rest of the company party was a blur. It was made better, or worse, by how Magda never let go of her; she held her hand while they returned to their seats, then laid her hand on Donna’s thigh under the table. Donna’s breathing never quite calmed down, and she gulped iced water just to cool off a bit. The only time Magda didn’t touch her was when she received some kind of promotion, and walked up to the stage to give a short speech.

Donna watched her with confused admiration. She was so beautiful, so elegant and professional looking in her half-formal attire, and Donna swept over the room to see if everyone understood what perfection they were facing. Most people smiled and nodded, but she noticed a few frowning faces. The CEO stood beside Magda and beamed like the sun, and when Magda returned to her seat, he blabbered on and on about Magda’s achievements and the high hopes the company had for her new position.

Magda sat and leaned closer to Donna, taking her hand again. When the CEO moved to the next announcement, she whispered, “Want to go now?”

Donna nodded so eagerly it made Magda grin. They glanced around, tried to get up as surreptitiously as possible and sneaked out. They giggled a little while waiting for their coats from the cloakroom, and when they were waiting for the taxi they kissed some more.

Donna’s anticipation mounted as they got closer to the hotel. Worry started to seep into her excitement. Did this mean what she thought it meant? Magda had kissed her first, so it felt relatively sure that she wanted her too, but how could that be? Maybe Donna had misunderstood. And even if she hadn’t, what exactly were they going to do? All the lesbian porn she had watched flew through her mind, but now that this felt like a real opportunity in her immediate future she felt very uncertain.

Magda pinned her against the door as soon as it closed behind them and kissed her neck. Donna gasped. They fumbled, undressing, until they had scattered their coats and shoes around and were standing facing each other. Donna slid her hands over Magda’s shirt, marveling again how silky and smooth it was under her touch. She glanced up at Magda and said, “I’m a little nervous.”

“Nervous?” Magda echoed, as she moved around behind Donna and unzipped her dress slowly. Donna shivered. She thought she could feel every notch of the zipper let loose. “Are you getting cold feet?”

“I… I want to… but I don’t know what to do.”

Magda leaned over her shoulder, cocked her head and looked down at her. Something passed between them, though if asked to explain what, Donna couldn’t have said.

“How about you let me make you feel good?” Magda said with a low voice and slid her hands under Donna’s dress on her shoulders, ready to slide it off. “I’ve had some experience with women. I have a few ideas. Just tell me how it feels. Or if something doesn’t feel good.”

Donna drew a breath when Magda kissed her neck again, slowly undressing her. “But… I want to make you feel good.”

Magda let Donna’s dress fall, pooling around her feet, and stepped back in front of her. She kissed Donna’s neck slowly, from her ear down to her shoulder, and reached to unclasp her bra. Donna felt the hair on her arms stand up. How could Magda know how to linger in exactly the right way? Her tempo was so good, so teasing and unhurried. Magda pushed the strap off her shoulder and kissed the exposed skin.

“You’ll get your chance,” she whispered.

Donna sighed, then grabbed her bra just in time and held it to her breasts. “Wait!”

Magda looked at her quizzically. She blushed and lowered her eyes to Magda’s toes. Her perfectly painted toenails shimmered through the sheer nylon.

“Can we turn off the lights?”

Magda cupped her cheek and tilted her head towards her. Donna reluctantly lifted her gaze to meet Magda’s eyes. Magda smiled and kissed her gently, her lips, nose, forehead.

“Sure we can.”

The room filled with shadows, but Donna still didn’t let go of her bra. Magda moved back to her, in the low light coming in between their closed curtains, and to Donna’s amazement she just wrapped her arms around Donna and held her. Donna lowered her arms, pulling her bra away from between them, and flinched mentally at how low her breasts dropped when her heavy-duty bra wasn’t holding them up. Bitterly she thought that her boobs reached Magda’s navel, if not quite her own. Magda’s shirt felt very soft and smooth against her bare skin, and Magda stroked her back very slowly, caressing the marks where the bra had pressed. Donna hadn’t realized how tense she was until Magda’s touch started to coax it out of her.

Her long, slim fingers traced Donna’s skin, following the edge of her shoulder blade, tracing her spine down to the small of her back and up again. Donna half expected for her to reach lower and squeeze her bum, but she never did. Donna felt like her skin was soaking in Magda’s attention. Each of her exhales was more relaxed than the last, until, quite suddenly, her lust took over, rising from somewhere in her pelvis, and made her breath hitch a little and speed back up again. After ditching her bra she had been holding on to Magda, her arms around the taller woman’s back, but now she moved them to carefully pull the silky shirt from under her skirt.

Magda leaned back a little bit to give Donna room to unbutton her shirt, but she didn’t let go of Donna. She undid the first button, her fingers trembling, and remembered her idea of kissing the exposed skin. It had been a nice thought, but the reality of it made her head swim. She had imagined touching another woman like this, many times trying to conjure up exactly the texture and feel of feminine skin. She shivered and nuzzled her nose against Magda’s chest, breathing in her scent, and Magda let out a low purring sound.

She wants me, flashed through Donna’s mind, bewilderment mixed with a wild rush of raw emotion. She wants me to touch her like this. Listen to her!

As if Magda heard her thoughts, the taller woman took Donna’s jaw in her hands, and drew her upwards into a long, slow kiss. Better than the first one, the one on the dance floor. Better than her first kiss with Ollie. Better than her first kiss. It was… so tender, and unrushed. Not in a hurry to get anywhere, or to anything in particular. It was a kiss that existed for itself, not as a prelude to more important things, and certainly not as a prerequisite to sex.

Donna had never felt so included, and that was before Magda helped her lay down on the bed.

In the dark it was hard to tell, at least initially, what was a tongue and what was a finger. All she felt was pressure, but it didn’t matter. The sensations sorted themselves out after a second or two, usually, when her tired nerves caught up to Magda’s increasingly effective ministrations. Her whole body was so wired, though, that she felt everything. The air moving over her skin whenever the air conditioner kicked on. The bed, and the sheets beneath her. Her own hair brushing against her shoulders.

The longer it went on, the more Donna realized that Magda was making her way over Donna’s body very carefully, very methodically. There was no casual avoidance of the areas she was most nervous about, and no obsessive fetishizing of her (in her opinion) overly large breasts. All of her was touched. All of her was licked. All of her was loved.

Magda had her roll onto her tummy, for a little while, kneading and massaging Donna’s back, which she had never realized held such an incredible amount of tension. Of course, she knew where that came from, but there was such a gentle joy in the way Magda took care of her that it got all twisted around with the desires in her head, and very quickly she was moaning enthusiastically.

“Oooo,” Magda said, purring in her ear, “that sound makes me want to do things to you.”

“What things?” Donna asked breathlessly, smirking very slightly.

Magda didn’t answer her. She just moved so that she wasn’t straddling Donna anymore, and tapped the side of her hip. Donna rolled over, onto her back again, and quickly adjusted herself again as she felt the other woman move, bodily, between her legs. Suddenly, every hair on her entire body stood on end.

“Oh,” she said, hips twitching and wiggling. “Uh, are you, uh—” She felt Magda’s arms slide under her thighs, and laughed nervously. “Oh, you… definitely are, huh?”

Magda said nothing. Hot air, Magda’s breath, rushing through her pubic hair. Over her labia. Hotter. Magda’s face was so close, she had to be hovering.

Waiting?

“Yes,” Donna said, flexing her hips to push herself even closer. “Please.”

There was something primal, something elemental, about the incredible sensation of Magda’s tongue; something so basic and intrinsically right. Donna crossed her legs at the ankle, just above the space between Magda’s shoulder blades, and kept her knees spread wide as she grabbed Magda’s head in both hands and held her there. It was glorious. It was revelatory. It was all things right and good.

Lights danced behind her eyelids. Stars. Constellations. Galaxies. She opened her mouth, took air into her lungs, and gave the world a song of thanks.

And then, when her orgasm finished, she came again for good measure.

***

Donna lay still, in the early morning light, and tried to breathe evenly and quietly. Sometimes, she’d let her tongue slide up against the roof of her mouth, making her breathing sound wet and loud to aid in her efforts to pretend to be asleep. She didn’t want to get up, and wake Magda, but she also hadn’t been able to get her mind to slow down.

She was pretty sure she had slept at least a little, but it hadn’t been much.

She turned from her side to lay on her stomach, which was always awkward and usually involved doing a full push up to get her boobs underneath her torso. Over the years she’d managed to teach her arms to do it without thinking, and after a few seconds she settled. Her cheek found a cool spot on the pillow.

Next to her, just within reach but laying with her back toward Donna, was Magda. Ribs slowly expanding and contracting with each breath.

A surge of emotions made Donna’s breath catch and she couldn’t fake sleep any longer. “Magda?”

Magda turned towards her, and in a flash of insight Donna realized she hadn’t just woken up. She had also been pretending to be asleep. They looked at each other. Magda’s makeup had smudged, but she was still stunningly beautiful. Donna drew a breath to say something, lost her courage, and let it out again.

Magda reached over and touched her cheek with the back of her hand. That unlocked them, and they both curled closer, wordlessly negotiating their position until they were locked in a close embrace. Donna was focused on the desperation of trying to get close enough, and the way Magda casually slid her hand between them and adjusted Donna’s breasts just so made her stop in awe.

“Em… I…”

Magda touched her cheek again, stroking the strands of hair off her face and tucking them behind her ear. Donna nuzzled her face against Magda’s neck, and the loss of eye contact made her braver. “I… I’m sorry I didn’t… I wanted to touch you, too.”

Magda was still touching her hair. Occasionally her fingers brushed Donna’s scalp, and she shivered.

“I have never made anyone come so hard they fell asleep afterwards,” Magda said solemnly. “Never. It was… really something.”

Donna was embarrassed, but the thrill still lingered and her pussy twitched at the memory. “So… but… you have done that before? With a woman?”

“I have had sex with women, yes. I… you haven’t had much casual sex, have you?”

“No,” Donna answered, drawing out the word. “I was with Ollie forever. He wasn’t my first, but even before him… casual isn’t the word for it.”

“No,” Magda agreed. “Casual is not the word for what we both did when we were young. We were trying so hard to be adults. I’ve been… experimenting since I’ve been alone. I haven’t really searched for a relationship, but I’ve had some… hm… casual encounters over the years. With both men and women. But last night…”

Donna waited, but when Magda didn’t continue, her nervous mind rushed into conclusions. “You… wanted it to be a casual encounter? Was I doing it wrong?”

“No! No, God no. Heyyy.”

Magda tilted her head but Donna didn’t meet her eyes. She blinked, tears stinging in her eyes.

“Donna,” she said softly. And then, when she didn’t react, a bit more insistently, “Donna.”

Donna sighed and turned her eyes to Magda’s. Up close her makeup was even messier, but her eyes were bright and very beautiful.

“Did you think that was some kind of… a fling? That I didn’t mean it?”

“I don’t know! I’ve never done this before! I’m not good at… at… whatever it is we’re doing right now! God, I’m a mess!”

Magda pulled her head back to her neck and kissed her forehead. Being held felt unbelievably good. It was like the nights they’d cuddled together in the middle of this same bed, but even nicer, because it was so intentional and they were both naked. Magda’s skin felt wonderful against hers, warm and soft, and Donna found herself moving a little just to revel in the sensations.

“So what are we doing?” Magda asked. “What do you want this to be? Us?”

“I don’t know!”

Magda sighed. Donna traced her hand slowly up Magda’s side, astonished at how well she could feel her muscles and rib cage under her marvelously smooth skin. She stopped with her hand just beside Magda’s breast, and blurted out, quickly before she lost her nerve again, “I don’t know what I want to do except that I want to touch you, but I really need to pee, but I don’t want to get up because I don’t know how to get back to this if I let you go right now!”

Magda burst into giggles and it was so contagious Donna found herself joining in. They laughed, and it took a long time for the energy to wear off.

“Oh,” Magda said, wiping her eyes, smudging her eyeliner even worse. “How about we take a timeout and continue this after breakfast?”

Donna smiled and nodded, and her good mood carried her all the way to the bathroom, before she realized she’d just walked across the room, naked, in front of her friend, and hadn’t remembered to be embarrassed. My friend? she thought while turning on the shower and adjusting the temperature to be just right. Is that really what she is to me?

Later, they were drinking coffee the room service had delivered, sitting on the bed in their robes. Donna asked, “So didn’t you ever want another relationship after Leo died? Isn’t that awfully lonely?”

Magda shrugged. “It wasn’t that I didn’t want it. There were no good candidates, and I’d rather be alone than in a bad relationship. The casual sex was enough to take the edge off, and as you very well know, I do have my own means for a good time.”

They grinned at each other.

“Oh my God, I was so embarrassed when you walked in on me the other day!”

“Are you kidding? That was the hottest thing I’ve seen since—”

“Since you last peeked at me masturbating?” Donna wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, and to her amazement Magda blushed lightly and gave her an embarrassed smile. “Oh my God! So you have spied on me?”

“I’m sorry!” Magda reached over and touched her arm. “I didn’t mean to… but since you cut the tree… I’m sorry. I don’t know what got into me. I’m not really all that voyeuristic. Or I thought I wasn’t. But Donna, my God, your body… you are so beautiful. I know you don’t think that way about yourself, but I think you are stunning. You are ridiculously my type.”

Donna cocked her head and looked at her neighbor, trying to sort out her emotions. She searched within herself for indignation, or humiliation, or anger, but didn’t even find the embarrassment she was sure was going to be there. She felt mostly thrilled and flattered.

I should be devastated, Donna thought. I should be horrified that anyone has seen me naked, touching myself. But this isn’t anyone… this is her. This is Magda. My Magda.

Donna put her coffee cup on the nightstand and very slowly, very deliberately, pulled open her robe. Magda sat, transfixed, and didn’t move even when Donna leaned closer, took her cup and set it next to her own. Donna pulled on the belt of Magda’s robe, unwrapping her like a present, and Magda’s eyes never left hers.

“Donna—”

“Ssh,” she said. “You said I’d get my turn.”

She pushed Magda over gently, delighted on how her hair fanned out on the pillow. Excitement fought with uncertainty of what, exactly, she should be doing, but the feeling of touching Magda drowned all her doubts and she decided to just focus on how the woman’s skin felt under her hands and lips. She kissed Magda’s neck, just below her ear, and Magda shivered. Magda had a lovely pit between her collarbones, and Donna kissed her there. She felt her breasts pillowing between them, how they swept over Magda’s lean form when she trailed lower. She wanted to touch Magda like Magda had touched her, as slowly and methodically, but she was drawn to her boobs like magnets.

Donna settled on top of Magda, her knees forcing Magda’s to open. She rested her weight on her elbows, face to face with Magda’s magnificent, cute little boobs, and had a hard time deciding which to kiss first. She was amazed at how Magda’s perfect, dark nipples tightened under her gaze, before she had touched them at all.

She wants me, Donna thought, stupefied, as she nuzzled one tight bud with her lips and gently sucked it into her mouth. She—oh God, this is perfect.

Magda held her head and moaned, undulating under her. A thrill ran through Donna’s body, and she couldn’t linger any longer than it took to give the other breast a similar kiss. She couldn’t wait to see Magda, to touch her, to try to bring her to an orgasm. She wasn’t sure she could do it, but by God she was going to give it everything she had. She glided lower, clumsily backing away, kissing Magda’s belly and letting her boobs brush the taller woman’s mound and upper thighs. When she settled between Magda’s legs, she felt like she was meant to be there. Her boobs puddled under her, she settled on her belly and took a first look of her new favorite place on earth.

Magda had trimmed her pubes. Donna thought she probably should have done the same; it had just never occurred to her to do any kind of gardening below. Magda’s vulva was puffed and swollen, and Donna stared with deep admiration at how Magda’s inner lips, so dark they were almost purple, glistened with her arousal. They formed a squiggly line to where her clit peeked from under its hood, like a pearl, just under the perfect curls of her pubes.

“Wow,” Donna whispered. She looked up, along Magda’s body, to her eyes. Magda met her gaze, serious and a little worried.

“You don’t need—”

Magda’s sentence ended with a whimper, when Donna pressed her mouth against her first pussy. She inhaled deeply. Magda’s scent was barely noticeable after her shower, but it was still intoxicating. Donna delved deeper into her and wanted to devour her, absorb her until they became one. She couldn’t penetrate Magda very well with her tongue, which led her to try the same with her fingers, and they both moaned when she first touched Magda’s opening.

So amazingly hot and slick she was! Donna had touched herself, of course, but somehow Magda felt different. Hotter, and wetter. And her reactions were so thrilling; the way she answered her, the small noises she made. All the little responsive coos. Touching herself was downright difficult compared to this, she could reach so deep inside this way. She planted a kiss on Magda’s clit, stroking her from the inside, and had a brief flash of panic on how to go about this. Magda had been so slow and thorough with her that she felt like a rushing, eager teenager in comparison. But Magda moaned and twitched, and she could’ve sworn she got wetter by the second, and damn it, she just sucked her clit between her lips and flicked it with her tongue. She lost track of time. She felt like she could spend days exploring Magda.

“Oh fuck oh fuck,” Magda whimpered and her thighs twitched in the most tantalizing way. “Oh fuck oh fuck oh—fuuuuuuuuuuuck!”

Donna’s heart swelled with the feeling of Magda’s pussy pulsing around her fingers, how her hips bucked under her. She stayed latched on, by pure instinct if nothing else, until Magda pushed her away, smiling and panting. “Oh God, have mercy, no more.”

Donna smiled up at her, radiantly, and was delighted at how wet her face was. She was fiercely proud of herself. “I made you come!”

“Oh fuck, you did,” Magda said. She was flat on her back, smiling ear to ear, and tiredly raised her arms towards Donna. Fingers pulling at the air.

Donna crawled to her and hugged her tight. “I made you come!”

Magda laughed, kissed her, then laughed more. “You smell like pussy!”

“I do?”

Donna sniffled and Magda laughed again. Donna grinned again and said, “I made you come! Can we do this again, do you think?” Magda cuddled next to her side, her breathing still laboured, and Donna held her closer, tenderness swelling inside her. She could feel Magda’s heart thumping. “So… what are we now?”

“It caught up with you, too?” Magda said, kissing her upper boob gently. “We can be anything we want to be.”

“But what—are you moving away? What was that again about that promotion? Will you be relocated here?”

Magda laughed. “You weren’t paying attention at all, were you? No, I’m not relocating here. I can work mostly from home.”

Her whole body relaxed with the answer and she was too relieved to even be embarrassed by her lack of attention the previous night. They lay together, gently stroking each other’s skin. Donna pulled the cover on them, and her mind started running away with the things Magda wasn’t saying.

“But… you don’t want to be my girlfriend?” Donna asked timidly. The thrill of sex started to wane and her insecurities kicked up again.

Magda looked at her. “You’d want that? I thought it bothered you that the kids were calling us that.”

“Well yeah, but it was only because we… weren’t.”

“Do you want me to be your girlfriend?”

Donna looked at Magda, a little annoyed by how she kept repeating it. “Yes, I want you to be my girlfriend,” she said, a little snippy. “I mean, I don’t want you to be anyone else’s girlfriend, do I? I want you to be mine.”

“Oo,” Magda said, her eyebrows rising. “Oo. Okay. Oh boy.”

They kept eye contact for a while, and then Magda reached closer and kissed her gently. “Okay,” she said quietly. “Okay. I guess we’re officially dating, then.”

Donna pulled her closer and let out a small, delighted sound.

***

The following twenty-four hours passed in a blur. Neither Donna nor Magda got out of bed to do more than open the door for their room service or visit the bathroom, and even then, when Donna wanted to shower, Magda followed her in and they fucked again. Donna had never managed standing sex in her life, but she quickly learned that fingers can be applied anywhere, and from pretty much any angle.

She also found that there was something profoundly satisfying about being that couple, the one making too much noise and prompting others to bang on the wall.

They had regressed to full-on pre-teen giggling by the time checkout arrived. Magda had to repeat herself twice when they tried to return their key, and when the attendant sorted out what room they’d been in she gave them both a very flat, unamused stare. That only served to make them giggle harder, and Donna was practically hanging on Magda’s shoulder as they fast walked out into the parking lot.

Donna spent the whole car ride home sitting practically sideways in the passenger seat, legs curled and folded in a variety of ways, as she listened to Magda talk about her job. Donna had never really known what it was Magda did aside from being a plant manager, and she listened with rapt attention as Magda filled her in. She was a little less clear on all the things she’d be asked to do in her new position, but the relief at doing something new was palpable in her tone. Donna wasn’t positive, but she was pretty sure she’d heard Magda say that it took her ten years to get promoted to the role she’d had, and that she’d been in it for fifteen years since.

When Magda said, “I’m ready for something new,” though, she turned and gave Donna a look that was most definitely about her.

Donna didn’t have a lot to contribute to the conversation. She hadn’t had a job, the kind where you paid taxes and took breaks, in decades, but she was starting to think about getting one if only to have something to fill her days. Maybe after the summer, when it was projected that the contractors would be done with the roofing work around the neighborhood and she didn’t have to do so much baking.

Remembering all the kitchen work she had ahead of her, the following week, put a damper on her good mood. It took Magda all of one minute to realize that something had changed, and the swiftness with which she reached over and took Donna’s hand was so surprising that she almost pulled away.

Almost.

Physical contact with Magda did a surprising amount of work toward helping her calm down, which was good, because their last stop before they went home was visiting Janet.

***

Two days later, Magda walked into her house and took one sniff. “You’re angry baking again, aren’t you?”

“Oh, piss off,” Donna said, half-heartedly, and tried not to glare at the racks and racks of cooling cookies around her.

Magda laughed.

Donna put down her whisk, and the bowl of dough she was working, and let out a heavy breath. “Thank you for laughing.”

Magda just gave her a look. “You’re venting. I get it.”

“Thank you! Yes!” She picked the bowl back up and went back to work. “God, I could never have gotten away with saying something like that to Ollie, and I…” She drifted off and looked up. “I… can’t imagine Leo handling that well, but I also can’t imagine you not being snarky.”

“We had a system,” Magda said. “When we first got married, he used to go to his mother and complain about me behind my back, because I didn’t suddenly turn into a domestic goddess like he thought. I worked, and I cursed, and I made sarcastic comments.” She sighed happily, staring out somewhere into her backyard as she sat down on one of the stools at the kitchen island. “Somehow it was his mom who got him to work out a way of figuring out when I was kidding and when I was really mad at him.”

“That sounds useful,” Donna said.

“Yeah,” Magda barked, “especially because I was such a bitch.”

“Oh, stop.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head and still laughing. “I was. God, when I got pregnant with Laurie, I used to get so mad at him. Look at what you did to me! The whole nine yards. Thank God for his mom.”

Donna put down her whisk again, and scowled. “It’s really hard to angry bake when, without even trying, you do such a good job of helping me step back from the edge. So, you know, thanks.”

Magda gave her a coy salute. “Just doing my job, ma’am.”

She put down the whisk, again, and huffed even more indignantly. “It’s not incestuous, right?”

“Wow, Janet really got under your skin.”

“Stop being insightful.” She waved the whisk. “Just… say more things that make me feel better.” Then she smirked. “Agree with me, or you’re not sleeping in my bed tonight.”

“Who are you kidding?” the taller woman said, laughing. “We’re sleeping at my house tonight.”

Donna sighed. “I really wanted her to take it better.”

Magda just smirked. “From their perspective, it kind of is incestuous.”

“I see you calling my bluff,” Donna said, back straightening, “and I resent it.”

“Hey.”

Donna stopped, and looked up.

“We’re not doing anything wrong.”

“Really?”

Magda got right up to her feet, came around the island, and held her, and it meant everything to Donna. The timer went off, and she did hear it, but it took her so long to detach from the embrace that the final batch of cookies got slightly too brown.

“Now look!” Donna wailed. “They’re ruined!”

“They’re not ruined,” Magda said. “They’re just perfect.”

“No they’re not! Look!”

Donna compared the previous batch of cookies to the last one. There was a perceptible shade difference.

Magda snorted. “You’re going to put frosting on them anyway, right? No one will notice.” Then Magda’s phone rang. She stepped closer and kissed Donna at the back of her neck before stepping to the hall and answering.

Donna shivered, amused and flattered by how kissing her was more important to Magda than answering a phone call from work immediately. She looked at the cookies, at the white frosting she had been whipping into shape when Magda interrupted her, and frowned.

She thought, White is so boring. With that, Donna made up her mind to start having a little fun with the frosting on her cookies. She said, “It can’t be that hard to make a little smiley face, can it?”

***

“This is so good,” Donna said, as she sank a little deeper into Magda’s hot tub. “I’m never getting out again.”

“What are you gonna do with your house?”

“Burn it down,” Donna mumbled, and a slow smile spread across her face. “I don’t want it any more. I just want this. And you.”

“Well, you’re welcome to come over every night while I’m gone.”

Donna frowned, and sank even deeper until only her eyes were above the water level. She gave Magda a glowing glare before resurfacing to breathe.

“It’s only four days,” Magda said, sliding a little further around toward her.

“I know you said,” Donna murmured, sadly, “that your new job would mean more travel, but I’m… not… ready to have you not here for that long.”

“It’s only four days,” Magda repeated, eyes widening.

“Yeah, but that’s four whole days!”

Magda rolled her eyes. “You’re not wrong.” Then she seemed to fixate on a spot on the wall, near the ceiling, and her eyes narrowed. “You know… you could come.”

“No, I can’t,” Donna said, sitting up a bit more. “I’ve got… baking on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday!”

“Skip it.”

“Ski—no! I can’t!”

“Then… I don’t know, can you do it all tomorrow? Before I go? Bake a whole big batch? I’ll even help you.”

Donna sat up, chest rising above the water. Magda’s smile widened into a grin and she slid out of her seat and across the tub to where Donna was.

“I love that look,” Magda said quietly. “I love how you bite your lip. I can practically see all the recipes flashing through your brain.”

Donna gasped when the taller woman grabbed her hips and tugged her. She slid obediently towards the edge of her seat, and Magda slid her hands up Donna’s sides underwater. It was amazing how she could reach all the way right under Donna’s boobs. In any other circumstance her boobs would’ve been in the way, but water suspended them so that for once the underside was free. What was more, she quickly realized she loved when Magda touched her there.

“But I—”

Magda silenced her with a kiss. It was a very long kiss, and by the time it ended Magda had pulled her into her lap. It was a weird position, half sitting and half floating, but then Magda turned her just so and it suddenly made sense. Magda pulled her to lean against her, and Donna opened her legs without being prompted.

“Em—”

“Look how beautiful you are,” Magda said. Her voice was low and full of admiration. Donna blushed and closed her eyes. She didn’t want to see her massive breasts floating and filling half the tub, she wanted to focus on Magda’s touch on her pussy. She wrapped her other arm around Donna, and she felt so safe, so protected. She moaned and moved her hips to meet Magda’s hand.

“Donna, my God, Donna…”

Magda stroked her pussy, gently opening her up. Her long, slim fingers felt amazingly good. She slid inside slowly, carefully, and with amazing precision she homed in on Donna’s g-spot. Donna let out a shivering breath and Magda held her closer.

“You can do whatever you want, don’t you see that?”

Magda’s breath in her ear made Donna shiver. She rocked her hips, and when Magda altered her grip to reach her clit, the sensation got very nearly perfect. Her growing arousal trumped her embarrassment, and she grabbed her own breasts. She loved their weightlessness in the water, and her nipples responded so well. She knew exactly how to touch herself, and Magda did, too. Magda’s touch was different from hers, but in many ways so much better.

“I want you to come with me, I do. I want you there, but I want you to come only if you want to come. Do you see that?”

Donna moaned. She was, once again, astonished with how fast and how completely Magda got her lust to boil over. She had vague memories of being very horny in her youth, but it had never felt quite like this. She had envisioned maybe trying out Magda’s toys again, but now all she wanted was Magda to keep doing exactly what she was doing, because it was so good, so good, so good—

“Please let me come,” she whimpered, when Magda slowed down. It was almost imperceptible, but she noticed, she was so close now.

“Oh fuck, baby,” Magda said with a strangled voice.

Donna moaned. Water splashed against the edge of the tub while she dangled on the edge of her orgasm, Magda’s breath in her ear, and then, yesssss—she whimpered and let it wash over her, letting go completely. Magda held her, guiding her through it. Magda made sure her head stayed on her shoulder, above the water. Magda held her.

Magda held her.

Donna couldn’t say when Magda had pulled out of her and wrapped both her arms around her, but when she finally settled, it was so. Magda kissed her ear and whispered, “Thank you.”

“Thank me?” Donna blinked. She tried to focus her gaze but couldn’t quite manage. The lights were low; Magda’s bathroom had a wonderful mood lighting. “But… but…”

“I can’t explain how much it means to me when you let me do that to you,” Magda said, and kissed her cheek. “I mean… I’ve never felt like this before. With everyone else it’s been more about my satisfaction. What do I get. Even with Leo, but especially shorter flings, and definitely one night stands. But with you… I just… I just really want you to feel good.”

Donna snuggled into a better position in Magda’s arms. It felt strange to be held like this, like a child, but it felt wonderful at the same time. “I want you to feel good, too.”

“I know. But… I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”

“That you’d want me to go with you?”

“Yes, but no. I do want you to come with me, if you want to come. But I want you to… I want you to see what you’re capable of, you know? You can do anything, you can go anywhere, you can… you can live, and I want you to see that. I want you… I want you to be happy.”

Donna blinked. Magda’s voice had so much emotion, an edge of some strange desperation. She didn’t know how to respond.

***

Donna was proudly presenting Magda with the fruits of her labor, introducing her to several boxes of frosted cookies carefully wrapped in cellophane. “And then this is the lesbian pride flag, see, and this—”

Doorbell rang. They looked up from the rainbow colored cookies, both turning towards the door.

“Are you expecting someone?”

“No,” Donna said. “I am not.”

On the porch were Liann, Bethany and Stella, all wearing tight toothy smiles and matching cardigans.

“Hello, Donna!” Bethany said, with an exaggerated friendly note.

“Ladies,” Donna said and looked from one to the other. “I’d invite you in, but I’m in the middle of baking for the construction guys and my kitchen is a mess! You know how it is, right?”—she turned her eyes to Liann, who hadn’t yet signed up for any baking—”What brings you here?”

Bethany cleared her throat. “Yes, about that. It has come to our attention that last week, when Mr. Buletti came to pick up the last batch, you were…”

She paused, looking to both her comrades for moral support, then leaned closer and said with a lowered voice, “…indecent.”

“Indecent?” Donna repeated, incredulously. “First of all, he came two hours earlier than agreed! Second, indecent how?”

Bethany huffed. “You know exactly what we mean! You weren’t wearing a bra, is what I mean! Gosh, I can’t believe you made me spell it out for you.”

Donna glared at Bethany.

“Ahem, actually,” said Magda behind her and moved to step on the porch. She tugged on Stella’s cardigan and pointedly slid her hand on the shoulderline of her t-shirt to reveal there was no strap there. Stella blushed and wrapped the cardigan back around her petite body. “Seems like the problem is that Donna has curves, and Stella here is as flat as—

“That is beside the point!” Bethany said, stepping half in front of Stella. “We don’t want this to become that kind of a neighborhood. I’m sure you agree, don’t you, Donna?”

“What kind is that, exactly?” asked Magda, as she stepped back to stand beside Donna. She didn’t touch her, but it was clear she positioned herself on the same front as her. “The kind where Donna can’t be without underwear in the privacy of her own home, but others can walk around without a bra in public?”

The hostile silence was broken by a truck parking at the side of the road. As one, the HOA ladies turned to look and formed an asymmetric line for Mr. Buletti to walk through.

“Ah, Mister Buletti,” Donna said, all smiles. “I see you’re early again. Good thing I have your cookies all ready! Just a second!”

***

“It’s not fair!”

Donna was still seething when it was time to go to bed. They had taken to spending every available night together, usually at Magda’s, because Donna’s house wasn’t prepared to handle a small dog curious to get into everything he wasn’t supposed to.

Magda set the book she’d been reading down in her lap, and looked over at her. “I know.” Magda’s tone of voice was annoyingly empathetic. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to get tired of going through the same conversation. Donna thought she must have initiated it a dozen times throughout the day.

“I can’t believe they’d gang up on me like that!”

“What makes it worse, that they did or that it used to be you?”

Donna blinked. “But… I was… oh God, I was that, wasn’t I?”

Magda touched her arm gently. “It’s not wrong to want to belong.”

“But… gah, what a bunch of stupid cows!” Donna groaned and snuggled against Magda’s side.

She kissed her forehead. “You want to… do something about it?”

“I wish,” Donna said with genuine longing. “But I just got my period. Can you read to me, or something? I need to be distracted or I’m just gonna keep stewing.”

“Sure, okay,” Magda said and picked up her book again. “Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there was a… ultimate go-to guide on managing different personality types in work environments.”

Donna groaned and Magda laughed.

“Sorry, but that is what I’m reading!”

“Okay okay,” Donna mumbled and settled closer against her. “You know what, just… please continue. I’ll be quiet.”

She focused on Magda’s voice rather than what she was reading. Magda’s voice, and how it felt to cuddle close to her, and that was enough to help with anything.

***

Donna was in her kitchen a few days later, working on a blueberry pie because she knew it was Magda’s favorite, when there was a knock on her door. She frowned, because it was the middle of the day, and was surprised to see Regina and Bethany standing on her porch looking more overtly pissed off than anyone she’d ever seen.

“Um, hi,” she said, recoiling from the intensity of their stares.

Regina smiled, tightly, but it was Bethany who spoke. “We saw your cookies.”

Donna blinked, and little by little her back started getting straighter. “Okay,” she said slowly, dragging out the word.

“What the hell?”

“Yeah,” Bethany added, aggressively, “what the hell, Donna?”

Donna narrowed her eyes, hands turning to fists at her sides. “Yes? What about them?”

“You know what,” Bethany continued, practically hissing. “You had no right to turn our goodwill effort into a platform for your agenda.”

“And what agenda is that?” Donna asked, taking a half step forward and squaring off very directly against the much smaller Bethany.

“Donna,” Regina said, and Donna had to stop herself from whipping around from the faux-saccharine tone, “you know, as well as we do, that there are strict rules about what flags we allow.”

Donna’s eyes just about bulged out of her head. “That rule is about flags being posted visibly, outside, in the yard, and the only reason we have that is because that old sonuvabitch Abernathy kept trying to hang up his Confederate flag!”

“Regardless,” Regina said, shrugging blandly, “it’s on the books.”

“Who complained?”

“They didn’t have to,” Regina fired back. “Donna, you can’t be going around making us look bad like this.”

“Making you look bad?” she roared. “They’re Pride flags! It’s June!”

Both women repositioned themselves, trying desperately to look like they weren’t doing it because Donna had intimidated them and that they had both simply decided to adjust their stances to be more defensive. “It doesn’t matter. They’re gone now.”

This set Donna back on her heels. “The contractors ate them all? Or…”

“They’re gone,” Bethany said, through clenched teeth. “We dropped off some muffins. Store bought, because it was short notice, and got rid of them.”

“You threw out…” Donna’s stomach sank. “That was two hundred cookies. They couldn’t have gone through more than, what, half? In a couple days?”

Regina cleared her throat. “We bought everything they had, but the muffins will probably only last through Thursday. Mr. Buletti hired a few more guys to stay on schedule. Are you good to be ready with something for them on Friday? Don’t forget, you’re on next week as well.”

Donna closed her eyes, counted to five, and nodded. “I’ll… make them some cupcakes for Friday.” Then, in a softer voice, she added, “I have a recipe I wanted to try.”

“And it won’t be any kind of preachy, political grandstanding?” Bethany asked.

Donna just glared at her.

“I’m glad we were able to settle this,” Regina said. She turned, and Bethany went with her, and Donna had to work very hard to close her front door and not slam it.

Donna turned and stalked back into the kitchen. She wanted to take a walk to cool off, but she knew she didn’t have much longer before she needed to pull the pie out of the oven, and not much longer after that before the meatloaf in the crockpot needed to be turned down to low. Instead she picked up her phone, fired off an angry text to Magda, and set it back down on the counter. If years of being with Ollie had taught her anything, it was that when someone was at work, they couldn’t always—

The phone rattled and buzzed, seconds later, wiggling its way across the surface of the island. Donna picked up the phone skeptically.

“What did they say?” Magda asked, faster than Donna could even get the phone up to her ear.

Donna had to stare into the yard for a moment. She hadn’t really paid attention to what she was typing when she’d sent the text, she was so mad, and couldn’t remember what she’d already explained. “I… um… Aren’t you busy?”

“I can make time,” Magda said. “For an emergency? For you? I can make time.”

For some reason, this made Donna start to cry, and once she started it was hard to stop.

***

Later that night, Donna was curled up in Magda’s bed, laying on her side and running her nails through Peanut’s fur, while Magda, behind her, read from a book and scratched Donna’s back lightly.

“—from the waters of the river…” she said, pausing as she flipped the page, ” that—oh. This is the last page?”

“Mmm-hmmm,” Donna said. Peanut got up, turned in place, and laid back down again, and this time Donna used just the one fingernail to scratch under his jaw. “Good boy.”

“Wow.” Pages flipping behind her. “This glossary is pretty long.”

“She doesn’t always write fantasy,” Donna said softly, “but when she does, she prefers glossaries,” pronouncing it with the same cadence as Dos Equis. Glo-se-REES.

Magda snorted, and said, “The most interesting writer in the world. Ahhhh, what do you want me to read after this? I thought I had like fifteen pages left, but it’s all pronunciations and technical stuff. There’s only a couple paragraphs left.”

Donna turned, and looked back over her shoulder. “This is gonna sound silly, but… would you start it over again?”

“The same book?”

“Yes, please.” Donna nodded, and turned back toward where Peanut was pawing at her for attention. “I’m here, I’m here.”

Magda chuckled. “He’s got you wrapped around his little finger, doesn’t he?” Then she shuffled the book around in her hand, and said, “Years Are Short.”

“It’s part of a little series. There’s another book that goes with it called Days are Long. They’re very different books. More… spiritually and thematically connected than anything else.”

“Is it not good?”

Donna snickered. “Everything she writes is good. Years are Short, though, is… special.”

“Is this your favorite book?”

Donna nodded, and then looked back over her shoulder and nodded again for emphasis.

Magda nodded in response, and then opened the book back up to the very end. “Alright. Let me finish this, get a glass of water, and then I’ll start it over.”

“Thank you,” Donna said, softly.

The taller woman cleared her throat. “Okay… from the waters of the river that, many miles upstream, had kept her village alive. Kept her people alive. She returned to it, as she returned to them.”

“I love that part,” Donna said. “It all comes full circle.”

“But wait, did she go back?” Magda flipped a few pages. “Is that what that means? I thought she was dying.”

“She was, yeah,” Donna said, “but she was dying at the beginning. You haven’t—”

“Spoiler alert,” Magda said, frustratedly.

“You can’t say spoiler alert for stuff at the beginning of a story!”

“I haven’t read the beginning part! I’ve only read the last couple chapters!”

Peanut pawed at her impatiently, and Donna cooed at him as she scratched around and behind his ears. “Well,” she said, as she again tickled the very edge of the underside of Peanut’s chin, “if you keep…” Then she stopped and sat up. “Well, wait. No. I don’t want you to just read to me every night. I mean, I do, but… Can I read something for you tomorrow?”

Magda frowned at the book, and then slid her thumb inside the cover to mark the page she’d just found. She looked genuinely surprised. “Um… Yeah. Let me, um… I’ll think of something.”

“Okay!” Donna said, excitedly.

“For tomorrow. I’ll come up with something.”

“Not a management guide to personalities, though.”

Magda used the book to thwack Donna’s thigh through the comforter. “You’ll read it, and you’ll like it.”

Donna rolled onto her side, and was surprised to find that she was a little sad that Peanut had left her side of the bed for the greener valley between hers and Magda’s feet. It was even more surprising, when she thought about it, because she had harbored such anger toward the tiny animal, all of it misplaced anger she’d held toward Magda, and as her feelings toward Magda had shifted so too had her affection toward Peanut.

Her girlfriend wiggled back into place, a full-body, back-and-forth shuffle under the covers that Donna thought was absolutely adorable, and cleared her throat. “Avina was dying. Fuck me running, it’s the first sentence?”

Donna snickered, said, “Less complaining, more reading,” and got thwacked by the book again.

“Avina was dying,” Magda said, starting over. “She knew this. The asking price, the blood price, of three arrows was more than she could afford, but neither could she roll over and die no matter how much she wanted to. If she did that, and the voices in her head were reminding her enthusiastically what a release that would be from the pain, she would be leaving it to someone else to settle her affairs.

“Daya, she whispered. The woman had practically gotten Avina into this mess in the first place but it was also her face that Avina pictured as she passed out, and Avina had made her a promise.

“Avina never broke her promises.”

***

Donna laughed, panting, and ran a hand through her sweat-matted hair. Beside her, head down near the other side of the bed, Magda was flat out. Not asleep, per se, but eyes closed and breathing slowly and evenly. Donna tried to let her hand run over Magda’s thigh, and got swatted for her curiosity.

“Sleeping,” Magda said, sleepily.

Donna impishly kissed the top of Magda’s foot, and that finally got the reaction she wanted: throaty purring.

“Still sleeping,” Magda said, but neither did she pull away.

“You only came twice,” Donna said, planting a row of kisses along the top of the arch toward the ankle. Magda stretched, long limbs reaching seeming absurd lengths, and Donna tried to sneak hands in around her thighs again.

Magda made a sound that was both mad and frustrated and giggling as she swatted Donna’s hand multiple times, like she was trying to put out a tiny and very silly fire.

“Oh fine.” Donna yawned and stretched, still not fully awake herself either despite having spent an unknowable amount of time between Magda’s thighs first thing in the morning; it might have been ten minutes and it might have been an hour, but it was time well spent no matter what. “I’m gonna go make a pot.”

“But what will you drink?” Magda murmured, softly, though her wide grin betrayed her very good portrayal of a beautiful woman sleeping.

Donna sat up, and smiled. Magda had her arms up above her head, and with her long body all stretched her breasts almost disappeared. Not completely, with just a hint of swell near her armpits, but her nipples sat magnificently on her chest. Brown and round and perfect. Donna couldn’t help herself, as she scooted off the bed, and planted her lips around the left areola.

Immediately, Magda’s fingers were in her hair, gripping and pulling her down, but Donna got such a delightful jolt from backing off just as Magda was giving in again.

“See you downstairs,” she said, as she pulled a bathrobe off the hook on the door on her way out.

“Teeeeeeease,” came the cry, as Donna bounced down the hallway.

It being June, with the daylight seeming to last forever, the sun was already very high despite the early hour. Donna leaned against the kitchen counter and stared out across Magda’s back yard. Magda and Leo had gotten a pool very soon after moving in, a pool that Ollie had taken to tending to and maintaining so that all their kids could use it, and with both of them gone the pool had remained closed for the entire previous year. As near as she could tell, Magda had never loved the pool. The two of them had used her hot tub more times in the past months than she could ever remember Magda using the pool.

The rest of her yard was neat and tidy, but the heavy tarp over the pool, held in place by cinder blocks, made her heart hurt. It was one of a dozen reminders, when she wasn’t actively trying not to look at them, that time marches on. Things change. People grow, and move, and priorities shift. Once upon a time, that pool had been the most important thing in their kids’ lives. They couldn’t have imagined going an entire summer day without spending hours in it.

Footsteps on the carpeted stairs behind her stirred Donna from her melancholy musings, and she gave a frustrated cry when she turned around.

“What?” Magda said, smiling coyly and pretending to be oblivious to the fact that her bathrobe was untied and unclosed. It barely covered her nipples, but it exposed the rounded inner swell of her breasts, the delicate curve of her smooth tummy, and her gorgeous pussy. Magda had labia that peeked out, and the slim gap at the top of her thighs highlighted the darker color of her inner lips. Made them pop, visually. Before their trip, on the occasions when Donna had the opportunity to see Magda naked, she’d had a hard time not staring at Magda’s pussy.

She didn’t have to hide her fascination anymore.

When Magda moved, the robe flowed open even more, leaving nothing to the imagination. Donna rolled her eyes, but she also watched closely as Magda moved around the kitchen and peeked into the still-brewing carafe.

“Not done yet?”

“No,” Donna said. “Of course it isn’t done. It’s been, like, four m…” She trailed off when Magda smiled, even though it was a very subtle smile.

“What shall we do with our time, then?”

“We could’ve just stayed in bed!” Donna said, half-exasperated and half-excited. “We didn’t have to get up!”

“But,” Magda said, smiling deviously, “if we hadn’t gotten up, then I couldn’t have gotten this.”

She started to pull something out of her pocket, but Donna made a move that surprised even her. Magda was backed against the counter, and had nowhere to go when Donna stepped closer to her and snatched something small and hard from the taller woman’s hand. She knew it by feel, of course—Magda’s bullet vibrator was a frequent contributor to their orgasms—and turned it on with a flick of her thumb. Another step, even closer, and Magda’s eyes went wide. Donna brought her open palm flush against the taller woman’s pussy, with the tiny pill-shaped toy tucked into her palm.

“Oh fuck,” Magda cried, reaching back with both hands to brace herself. “I did… I-I did not—”

Donna reached up, laid a single finger over Magda’s lips, and made a soft shhhh sound. The taller woman nodded enthusiastically, and bit her lip.

Magda had a lip that was perfect for biting. Not everyone could pull it off that kind of thoughtful sensuality, but it came so naturally to her.

With her palm doing all the work of holding the vibrator in place at the apex of Magda’s cleft, she worked her middle finger lower and deeper until she was pressing, ever so gently, at the opening to Magda’s innermost temple. She pushed but did not enter, letting the muscle relax enough to receive her. With her other hand, she pushed aside the robe and latched onto Magda’s nipple. Having gone through breastfeeding four times, she’d never thought she’d be able to look at a nipple, even her own, as a sexualized object ever again, but Magda’s nipples were so tantalizing, and reactive, and got so hard under her tongue, that it was hard not to fall in love with touching them.

Nevermind how her own body reacted to Magda.

She kept her fingertip in place, pushing very slightly, and worked her palm in slow circles. The bullet vibrator slowly moved around under her palm, and she delighted in the way Magda twitched and jerked whenever the vibration pattern reached peak intensity. She knew from experience that it could pack quite a punch, and she was pretty sure that Magda’s comparatively large clit was even more sensitive than hers.

Like earlier, on the bed, Magda reached for the back of her head, to hold her in place while she suckled, and this time Donna stayed. There was something so intimate about the way they cradled each other, and held each other close. When they’d been simultaneously going down on each other earlier, each one of them had very carefully arched a leg up and over. They always did. Whenever they started touching each other, they always found little ways to stay connected. To keep skin touching skin.

Crossed ankles. Fingers in hair. Scratch marks across shoulder blades.

Magda’s back arched sharply, a sure sign of things happening quickly, and Donna moved her hand. The little pill vibrator fell, bouncing off of her foot and leaving a few wet drops there before skittering across the linoleum. Freed of its job of holding the vibrator in place, Donna was able to bring her fingertips, plural, to bear on Magda’s beautiful clit.

Donna had never seen such a beautiful clit. To tell the truth, before she started watching Magda’s porn, she’d never seen a clit. Not even her own. Hers was nestled in among the folds of her labia, never to peek or expose itself. Shy. Sensitive. Not like Magda’s at all.

The taller woman’s head rolled back into her shoulders, and she let loose a series of short, whining moans in time with her halting breath and the sharp contractions tearing through her. Donna kept her fingers in place, working them over and around and under, but her lips moved to kiss a line straight up the center of Magda’s chest. Right up to the collarbone, and there she stopped to suckle again.

On the one hand, Magda always writhed very intensely when Donna paid lip service to her neck and shoulders. On the other hand, the other woman was so tall that sometimes, it was all she could reach. She had to wait until Magda was done writhing and groaning, spiraling back down to Earth from the dizzying high of her third orgasm of the morning. When she did come down, and when she finally kissed Donna again, it hit her that neither she nor Magda had washed their faces since going down on each other for so long.

“Oh fuck,” Magda said, nearly cross eyed as she let her forehead rest against Donna’s. “Now I’m all worked up again.”

“I”ll go get the double dildo,” Donna said, smiling impishly. “Meet me back in bed?” She took a couple steps backwards and smirked.

“But what about the coffee?”

“You know how I like mine,” Donna said, turning and pulling up the back of her bathrobe to expose her ass. “Bring them both. Oh, and maybe some water!”

“How many hands do you think I have?” Magda called, as Donna giggled and zipped up the stairs.

***

Donna bit her lip and looked around. “It’s the teddy bears!” she said, pointing at a booth. “You brought me here to win me a rainbow teddy bear!”

Magda just laughed and shook her head.

“Okay!” She threw up her hands and planted her feet. “I give up. Why are we here? Why not Chicago?”

Magda bit her lip. Whenever she did that, she always bit the side of her lower lip, slightly off center, which did just the cutest things to her mouth, but Donna would not be distracted. She’d really been looking forward to going to Chicago for her first Pride parade. Instead, at the last minute, Magda had cancelled their plans to meet up with Rhea and Laurie and driven them to tiny, podunk, barely-a-city, not-large-enough-to-have-a-parade-so-instead-they-have-a-fair, Lafayette.

She’d tried to stay positive, but it was hard even with Magda assuring her that there was a surprise. She worried that the surprise was that Janet would show up. She and Janet hadn’t spoken in months, not since Janet insinuated that her and Magda’s relationship was somehow taboo. She would certainly feel better if that little row was put to bed and she could call Janet once a week like she used to, but she was pretty sure that it wasn’t just that it was two women, or even that it was two women Janet had been close with growing up; Janet had had a special relationship with her father. Both Laurie and Chrissy had tried to bring the subject up with Janet, and had gotten an earful for their trouble.

It was just a matter of time, but Donna had never been great at patience.

Lafayette Pride was being hosted on Purdue’s campus that year, which was technically in West Lafayette, but the two towns were very closely intertwined. Donna had visited the campus once, with Ollie and Henry when Henry was in his junior year of high school, but nothing she saw looked familiar. It was hard to tell if it was because they were just on a different part of the campus, or if the place had changed over time, or if the Pride event was masking some landmark she would otherwise recognize. There certainly hadn’t been so many rainbows last time.

As they moved through the crowd, Donna got the most incredible thrill from the simple pleasure of holding Magda’s hand. She had certainly never faced a society hostile to basic levels of public affection between women, but there was something very supportive and rewarding about being surrounded by people who had found themselves like she had. They radiated joy, each of them, and it was hard not to feel like she was giving off some of the same as she walked alongside her girlfriend and squeezed her hand.

“There,” Magda said, pointing.

A little further down there was a tent, probably the largest she’d seen since they arrived, but it took another minute of walking before Donna could read the sign, and when she did she shrieked and jumped. “No way!”

“Yes way.”

“No way!”

“Yes. Way.”

“But I love her!”

“She’s your favorite author,” Magda said. “I was looking at the weather last week, and it was saying there was a slight chance of rain in Chicago, but I really wanted to go to a parade with you. At first I was looking up Indianapolis, but then I checked this just because it’s so much closer and whose name do I see but Mary Keats.”

“But how?” Donna sputtered. “Why?”

Magda gave her a bemused look. “Did you not pick up on the tension between Avina and Daya?”

“They’re…” Her brow furrowed heavily. “But… they’re just old friends.”

Magda shook her head. “There’s no way Daya is that mad at her real early on in the story unless there was something else to it. And why do you think Avina is sooooo invested in getting back to her?”

“Well yeah, but she…” Donna’s head fell a little to the side, like her neck was unable to support a brain thinking as hard as she was just then. “Ohhhh my God.”

“I know you told me that book had layers, but yeesh. How many times have you read it?”

“Ahhh, ten? No. More. That’s just with the hardback I have now. I used to have a paperback copy that I wore out. I don’t even know how many times I read that one.”

“Well,” she said, half turning and gesturing toward the tent, “here’s your chance to say thank you.”

Donna read the sign again—An interview with local gay author Mary Keats on the subjects of lgbt representation and normalization—and sighed happily.

***

“I started reading her books in… what, high school?”

Magda leaned over, keeping her voice low, and said, “Eighth grade. I remember you carrying one around and talking about it a lot. I went to the library to check one out, but I had to get a different one from the one you had, and I didn’t like it.” She didn’t need to be so quiet, there weren’t that many people in the audience yet, but it was the polite thing to do.

Donna frowned and looked over. “You did?”

“No, I didn’t like it.”

“No, you…” Donna shook her head. “You looked into it because I liked it?”

Color rose in Magda’s cheeks. She quickly pulled her phone out of her purse, looked at it, and then put it back. “At the party. The… At the Millers’? We had the same dress?”

“Yeah?”

“I saw you trying on that dress. At Nordstrom’s, and I… I kind of went out of my mind? For a little bit? I… I stole that dress.”

This time, Donna turned halfway around in her chair. “You stole it?”

“I could have afforded it,” she said, her eyebrows rising, “but… I was obsessing. I had this little baggie in my purse that I’d carried some peanuts in and, for whatever reason, I hadn’t thrown it out? I wrapped that around the dye pack. It didn’t get it all, but the dress was blue and you can’t hardly tell.”

“Why would you do that?”

Magda just stared forward and licked her lips. “Why did you tell me Janet and Lennox had a kid together?”

Donna’s breath caught in her throat.

“I thought I was losing my mind. I just kept thinking about you, and focusing on you, and I’d get so mad. So mad. It was all consuming. You were all I could think about. At the time, I was telling myself it was because I needed to wear it better, you know? The dress, I mean. Like…” She touched her fingertips to her forehead and laughed bitterly. “I had to win. If I didn’t win, if I couldn’t beat you, then… and-and so that meant I had to make it so that we were definitely competing as directly as possible, so I… I…”

“So you stole a dress,” Donna said, softly.

“And then it didn’t even matter. You looked gorgeous.”

It took surprisingly little self-control to avoid arguing about who looked better in what on what day. Mostly, she just didn’t like the way Magda looked sad. It hurt her heart, so she reached over and took Magda’s hand.

“You looked gorgeous,” Magda said, “and I felt awful.”

“Hey hey,” Donna said, softly, as she leaned in and put her head on Magda’s shoulder.

Magda looked up, and shook her head as she carefully brushed her thumb through her eyelashes. “Sorry. I don’t know what that was.”

“Come on. We agreed.”

“No, I know, but—”

Both of them turned as there was motion near the stage.

“I know we said no apologies,” Magda whispered, “but I wish that I could take so much of it back. Like, going farther back than you even know.”

Donna squeezed her hand extremely tightly, giving Magda one last very intense look, before her attention shifted to the stage.

The rows behind her were sparsely filled, and the small woman who came out when the interviewer announced her seemed to notice immediately. She was followed by another woman, slightly taller and similarly introverted, but the second woman was clearly more focused on the first. When they sat down, only one of them had a microphone attached to her shirt.

Mary Keats was smaller than Donna had imagined her, but with more than twice the amount of steel gray hair. The bulk of it was pulled back and tied up with a silk scarf, and then behind the scarf its true volume became apparent. Mary’s eyes were everywhere, looking at everyone. She made eye contact with Donna three times, and each time Donna swelled with glee. She hoped it was written on her face how excited she was. She hoped she was cheering loud enough.

The interviewer, an older gentleman, waited until both Mary and her escort were seated. From the way the other woman clung to Mary’s side, Donna thought she was either some kind of very devoted caregiver or a romantic partner. Maybe both.

“Okay,” the interviewer said, collecting his talking point cards and situating himself comfortably in his chair. “For those of you who don’t know, we’ve been trying to get Mary to come and speak at Lafayette Pride for years now.”

A wave of excited cheering followed ‘Lafayette Pride’, but Mary just narrowed her eyes at the crowd. “We come every year,” she said, in a surprisingly small voice. “Every year since the first one.”

The woman seated next to her leaned in close to Mary, and though she wasn’t mic’d and the PA didn’t broadcast her voice, Donna could read enough of the woman’s lips to know she was saying, “That’s not what he’s asking, dear.”

“Oh,” Mary said, sitting up very straight. “Well, um…” She crossed her legs very tightly, with the toes of her Keds on barely touching the stage below her. “All correspondence goes through my publisher first. So… sorry.”

“No,” the interviewer said, amicably, “I just mean that we’re honored and lucky to have you!” To the audience, he added, “Mrs. Keats doesn’t give very many interviews.”

“Just Mary is fine,” she said, voice shrinking back to a smaller version of itself.

“Thank you, Mary,” he said. “We’ll be discussing, specifically, your experiences writing diverse characters, how that’s changed in the years since you first started publishing, and what kind of pushback you’ve gotten for the sensual, borderline erotic content in your stores. Each of your nine novels set a new bar for observational wit and insight, and—”

As he talked, Mary was focusing on him very intently. She had a laser focus, and indeed seemed to be looking more at the man’s mouth than his eyes. Just as he was finishing up, Donna realized that the other woman, the caregiver, was moving in time with his words. She wasn’t mouthing it out exactly, but her lips were sort of twitching and her head kept ducking slightly at the same cadence. There was no way this second woman could know what the man was going to say, Donna thought, unless they’d known what the questions were. Mary certainly wasn’t acting like she knew what the questions were…

…which meant that the caregiver had written the questions? Which was strange?

“—through over forty years of writing and publishing, and over seventeen million copies sold.” He paused slightly, turning toward the audience, and everyone clapped. “Then, at the end, if we have time, we’ll hopefully be able to open it up to the audience and take some—”

“No,” Mary said, sharply. “No questions.”

The interviewer nodded easily, as if this had been a potential outcome, but the woman seated next to Mary frowned and looked worried.

“Please,” Mary added, very belatedly.

“Of course, of course. Honestly, we’re just so happy you’re here. Whatever you’re comfortable with, we’re grateful for.” He and the caregiver shared a very brief look, one that Donna was pretty sure she was the only person who noticed, and then smiled and looked down at his cards. “Okay. So. As I’m sure all of you know, Mary’s first book, Years are Long, was first published in 1981, during the height of Reagan-era politics and religious fervor. Can you tell us about the process of trying to get a book published at that time that contained protagonists coded as lesbian, and the intertwined themes of feminism, female empowerment, and witchcraft?”

Mary looked down at the stage, and fidgeted slightly. “Um… Okay. Technically, Years are Long was my third book. I had another… um… hm. An-and then I had actually written Days are Short first. Days are Short is… well, um, contemporary. Set in, you know, 1977, but, you know, current at the time. It wasn’t supposed to be retrospective, but it, um… That story was more explicit. It was about…” She trailed off, shook her head, and chewed on her lip. Then, she twitched when the caregiver next to her, whom Donna was increasingly sure was her wife, laid a hand on Mary’s forearm.

“Days are Short was unpublishable,” she said, having found some more conviction in her voice. “I heard that over and over when I was… Well, actually, I didn’t send it out. I wrote it, and I put it down, and I just started writing another story. That’s what I used to do. I would just write a story, and then… write another one. I didn’t realize that my girlfriend was mailing copies out. I didn’t even know she was making copies, but suddenly our little bookshop was going through copier paper at an astounding rate.”

The crowd laughed. Mary didn’t. She just blinked at them, and then painted a smile on her lips that didn’t travel very much higher. She did seem to relax a little though.

“Um, then girlfriend, now wife. I found the rejection letters later, which was… It didn’t matter, really. I was writing for my own reasons, but it…” The slightest pause. “It stung to see the parts of it that I was most proud of singled out with words like unpalatable, or unsavory. Lots of un prefixes.”

Another round of laughter, and again Mary didn’t seem to understand why. She wasn’t frowning, exactly, but she was staring at some of the audience members as if she was trying to solve a puzzle. When her wife chuckled politely, that seemed to trigger a more genuine smile in the woman, but it still wasn’t commensurate.

***

“This is gonna go bad,” Magda said, turning slightly to look in directions Donna didn’t.

“I’m doing this,” Donna replied, curtly.

“No no,” Magda said, eyebrows rising. “I’m on board with it. I love seeing you going after what you want. I just don’t think it’s gonna end how you want it to.”

When it seemed like the interview had wound down, and Mary’s patience for questions had worn thin, Donna had grabbed Magda by the arm and left early. The two of them were now standing beside the large tent, near an area where heavy duty power cables were running into the tent for the lights and sound.

“I’m okay if she gets upset at me. I still have to do it.”

“This is some 4D chess stuff,” Magda said, “being out in the back here before it’s even over.”

“All chess is 4D chess,” Donna said.

Magda opened her mouth to argue, but there was sound on the other side of a flimsy bit of tent canvas, and Donna’s heart leapt straight into her throat. Suddenly, it seemed like such a bad idea, and when Mary Keats and her wife came out through the back of the tent, both of them pulling off their official rainbow lanyards, their reaction to seeing two fans waiting was exactly what it seemed like Magda had been trying to warn her about.

“I’m sorry,” Donna said, stepping forward, “I know you said you didn’t want to take questions, but I felt like I really needed to say something to you and I didn’t know if I’d ever get another chance.”

Mary looked somewhere between petrified and horrified.

“I’ve read all of your books, many times. You’re my favorite author, and you have been for decades.”

“It’s true,” Magda said.

Donna gave her a brief, sideways glare, and waved her off. “I still feel like I’m learning from them. I’ve read Years are Short so many times that I wore out the binding on the first paperback version I had. The ’85 print, with the two birds on the cover?”

Mary nodded, seeming at least a little bit less confrontational.

“I just wanted you to know that, even after all these years, I’m still finding new things. Things you put in your books that… sort of like easter eggs. It’s not obvious, but I love it. Feels like a little victory every time I put something together.”

“Oh,” Mary said, blinking. This, it seemed, she understood. “Okay. Good. I’m glad.”

“More than that, though,” Donna said, barrelling forward, “I feel like your books have really been a part of me growing. You know, I was… I was married for twenty-six years, had four kids, and… and now, they’re all grown up, and moved on, and…” She paused, turning back toward Magda and trying to figure out how to explain the last year and a half, and came up empty.

Mary was looking intensely back and forth between them when she turned back.

“There’s bravery in your characters. They keep getting back up, no matter how many times life knocks them down, and I…” Donna ran out of words. She puffed out her cheeks, trying to make her brain make the words she wanted, but they weren’t coming. And then Magda put a hand on her shoulder.

Magda smiled at her, and she smiled at Magda, and little by little the pressure let off.

Mary, who had been watching her intently the whole time, reached back and untied the silk scarf that had been holding back her hair. Her wife looked stunned as Mary loosened it, pulled it free, and handed it to Donna. The dense nest of curly gray went wild, bouncing up and around, and partially covering Mary’s face.

“Babe,” Mary’s wife said, but Mary didn’t say anything. She was focused on Donna.

Donna took the scarf, frowning in thought, and looked up, but Mary was already turning away.

“Babe,” her wife repeated, but, again, Mary said nothing. She just shoved her hands into her pockets and started off in the other direction, along the backside of the large tent. The woman turned to Donna, smiled broadly, and said, “Thank you!”

Donna, bewildered, said, “You’re welcome?”

“I don’t know what you said that got through to her, but… Oh my God!” She seemed to come to her senses, and turned to follow Mary saying “Babe!” over and over until they were out of earshot.

Donna looked down at the scarf. It was old, surprisingly long, and a little frayed at the ends, but it was gorgeous. There was a multi-color tile pattern to it, and the colors were a little faded, but it had been well made once upon a time. She wrapped it loosely around her shoulders, letting it loop across her chest.

“It suits you,” Magda said, giving it a tight nod of approval. “I don’t know what the hell that was, but…”

Donna looked after the two of them, walking side by side with their arms around each other, and smiled. “I think she just… needed to hear that?”

The taller woman nodded slowly, and reached up to run her fingers through the short hairs at the back of Donna’s neck. “You were right.”

“That means I won,” Donna said, brightening significantly.

“What? No. We didn’t bet. That wasn’t a bet.”

“I won,” Donna sang.

“This doesn’t count!”

“You’ve gotta wear the cat ears!”

“I’m filing a petition as soon as I get back to my office. You’ll be hearing from my lawyer.”

Donna smirked. “I am your lawyer, and I’m not doing that, because I won.”

“Total conflict of interest,” Magda fired back. “I’ll sue your pants off.”

“Oh, well, You didn’t have to sue me to get my pants off.”

And then Magda was kissing her, and all was right with the world.

***

“It’s a trick,” Donna said, equal parts grabbing Magda’s hair to keep her in place between her thighs and pushing her away. “A dirty, dirty trick. With tongues.”