Back Talk (21 page)

“Philip, I need your help.”

He turned around. “I know. She’s been to talk to Gerald.”

“About what?” She could feel her heart begin to race. This was like the quintessential moment of truth. Were her hopes to be scattered? She took a deep breath.

“About you, silly.” Apparently satisfied with the progress of dinner he turned his full attention to her.

“Really?”

“Really. Look, I was in your situation once and it’s freaky, but you two already act like you’ve got the U-Haul hitched to the car.”

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“What if I’m imagining this and she’s just one of those touchy-feely kind of straight women.”

“Anne Counterman?” he said, raising an eyebrow.

“All right, that’s not exactly how I’d characterize her,” she conceded. “So how do I go from point A to point B?”

“Oh, this is perfect. I’ll have Gerald tell the story of us over dinner—that’ll get the ball rolling,” he said mischievously.

“Oh, I get it. This is a recruitment dinner.”

“We don’t recruit the unwilling.” Philip looked at the bottles of wine. “Very nice. Still have the wine cellar, I see.”

Hilton smiled. “Stocked to hilt.”

He touched her shoulder. “Don’t worry, for as bad as you’ve got it, she’s got it worse.”

“Okay.” She could feel herself relaxing.

“Come on, let’s go see what they’re up to.”

The first thing Hilton noticed at the long mahogany dinner table was that everything matched—the napkins and the table-cloth, the glasses, the silverware. If she and Anne did do the U-Haul thing they’d have matching accessories. She actually liked what Jessie was doing with the house. It had class. It had style. She was ready for that now. Nat hated shit like that because it reminded her of her upbringing, and Gran always thought it was pretentious and overrated. Couldn’t pleasantries be a part of their lives without being showy?

“That’s a nice watch,” Gerald commented as he carved up the lamb.

Hilton studied him for a moment. He was an attractive man, well-dressed in that elegant, understated way. He was everything Hilton would imagine Anne had wanted in a man.

“It was a present from Hilton,” Anne said, looking at her instead of him.

That was a good sign, Hilton thought. She put some of the mint pesto on her pepper-crusted lamb and told Philip that he was an outstanding cook. The lamb was cooked to perfection. She’d 155

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never had lamb with mint pesto but it added to the flavor. The new potatoes and peas with pearl onions all accented the meal.

He passed her fresh rolls and beamed at her. “Gerald, it appears that Hilton is interested in our story as well.”

“Is that all right with you?” Gerald asked Anne.

“Hello, I’ve been trying to get this story out of you for the last year,” Anne said.

Hilton took her hand under the table. She wasn’t sure if Anne was expressing false bravado or if she wanted to know, as Hilton did, how one crossed the line.

“So it goes like this …” Philip prodded.

“This is difficult. I don’t really know exactly how it starts. We’re friends. We do guy stuff together … a lot. Philip didn’t tell me he was gay for a long time, and when he did it didn’t matter. Guys can be kind of weird about that stuff. Then there comes this day, this time, and it all seems right, it all makes sense and then you jump,” Gerald said. He had been looking at Philip but now he looked at Anne.

“And then you come home, pack your clothes and tell your wife you’re gay,” Anne said.

“I knew storytime wasn’t a good idea,” Gerald said. He took a sip of wine.

“At least it’s out in the open now,” Philip said cheerfully.

Hilton was mortified that Philip’s plan had seemingly gone awry. It wasn’t what she had intended.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. I’m glad you found the love of your life and your true self,” Anne said diplomatically.

Gerald looked relieved.

Hilton watched as Anne also seemed to relax. She had two glasses of wine and seconds on the new potatoes. She took this to be a good sign.

After dinner Philip dimmed the lights and went to the kitchen to get the dessert. He came out with key lime pie and four candles.

“I thought cake might be too heavy after lamb and Gerald said key lime was your favorite.” Philip’s cheeks were highly colored and Hilton could tell he wanted to make this work.

“You can do the math,” Gerald said gently.

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Anne smiled. “And I still look fabulous.”

“Incredible,” Hilton said.

Anne took a deep breath and blew out all the candles. Philip cut the pie expertly and handed out the slices.

Hilton took a bite. “It’s delicious.”

“Thank you. Oh, we have a present for the birthday girl.” He pulled a beautifully wrapped box from the chair next to him and handed it to Anne.

Gerald smiled at her benevolently. “I hope you like it.”

“There’s a demonstration after you open it,” Philip said.

Anne opened the box. Inside was an ornately cut crystal bowl.

She pulled it out carefully and examined it. “It’s beautiful.”

“Okay, now wait.” Philip took the bowl and disappeared into the kitchen. Gerald dimmed the lights until the room was almost dark. Philip brought the bowl back in. It was filled with water and had small scented tea candles floating in it. The crystal glowed with light. He set it down before Anne. “It’s for romantic dinners.”

He looked pointedly at the two of them.

“How nice, isn’t it, Hilton?” Anne said.

“Lovely,” Hilton replied. She tried to imagine romantic dinners with Anne. Was she capable of being romantic? She hadn’t learned much from Nat, whose idea of romance was to fling you on the floor and fuck you silly. Perhaps she’d quiz Anne on what she envisioned as romance.

After dinner, they had brandy in the living room. Philip and Hilton told them Queer Nation stories. Both Gerald and Anne wiped their eyes a couple of times from laughing.

“I’m thinking I didn’t miss much,” Gerald said. He sipped his brandy and smiled at Anne.

“No, my first experience with a staple gun wasn’t that successful,” Anne said. She looked down at her thumb.

Gerald glanced over. “Will the nail grow back eventually?”

“What are you implying, that it looks like the head of a penis?”

Anne asked.

Philip leaned over to look at. He was sitting on the couch next to her. “Yes, as a matter of fact, it does.”

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“Well, don’t worry, boys, I won’t be competition for you. It’s going to grow back,” Anne said.

Hilton smirked.

Later in the car, Anne looked over at Hilton. “Do you think Philip is a bit of a control freak?”

Hilton, who had been sucking on an after-dinner mint that Philip had insisted they have from a vintage silver tray he kept in the entryway, was taken aback. She started to laugh, almost choked, then sent the dinner mint projectile-style into the wind-shield. It bounced back and landed neatly in her lap. “Gee, what makes you think that?”

It was Anne’s turn to laugh. “I thought you were going to put your eye out with that thing.”

Hilton opened the car window and flicked the mint outside.

She hadn’t wanted it in the first place, but Philip was so insistent she’d felt obligated. “You know, I simply asked Philip how he got together with Gerald. I didn’t expect him to tell the story in front of you. I would never do that to you.”

Anne stopped at the light. She took Hilton’s hand. “I knew that.

It was territorial of him.”

“Good. I felt bad.”

“You don’t have to. I’m not like that, right?” Anne turned onto the expressway.

“Not like what?”

“A control freak,” Anne said.

“Uh, no. You’re kind of the opposite. You have a control freak for a producer, you have a slacker for a broadcast engineer and a deaf call screener. That is like the most uncontrolled work environment I’ve ever seen and I like it. It pretty much sums up your personality. Some people like control freaks. They feel safer with someone who can take care of things. Look at Jessie.”

Anne pulled into Hilton’s driveway. “What do you want in a relationship?”

“Vaginal sobriety.”

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Anne laughed. “Now, that’s an original term.”

Hilton looked at her. “What do you want in a relationship?”

Anne was silent for a moment. “I want to be that special someone that your lover wants to come home to, wants to wake up next to, wants to share your dreams with, that’s what I want.”

“That’s beautiful. Do you want to come in? It’s only ten.”

Hilton hoped she appeared casual and not pleading, but it seemed that tonight was the night for the big jump.

“Please, I need to unwind. Can I see the wine cellar?”

“Of course,” Hilton said.

When they got inside Liz and Jessie were lounging on the couch watching a DVD of last season’s
the L Word
. This was Jessie’s new obsession, but it did beat out reruns of old shows on cable.

One more episode of June and Ward Cleaver and she was going to scream.

“I’m telling you, they had to bring her down like that. It’s like the classic Greek hero who falls in those bullshit stories,” Jessie said.

“You did learn something in college,” Liz said.

“What are you talking about?” Hilton asked.

Anne sat down on the ottoman and stared at the television. Two of the characters were seriously going at it.

“How Bette ended up screwing around on Tina,” Liz said.

“See, Bette was always the one playing high and mighty and it’s all about the rules and monogamy. Then bam, the hot carpenter chick comes along and all Bette’s morals go flying out the window,” Jessie said.

“If she’d been smart she never would have hired her because Bette knew that she was attracted. If you want to keep it together, don’t tempt yourself,” Liz said.

“Because lust always wins out?” Anne inquired. She had managed to pry herself from the television.

“Let’s go see the wine cellar,” Hilton suggested, noticing that Anne’s curiosity seemed a little more than academic.

“Can’t we just finish this part?” Anne said. She tilted her head to one side as she studied the position of the two women on the screen making love.

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Hilton gave Liz a look. Liz grabbed the remote and flipped it to the blue screen. “I think that’s enough for one night.”

“Where’s Shannon?” Hilton asked, suddenly aware that her dog was nowhere in sight.

“Oh, you’ve got to see this,” Liz said, getting up. “She’s in my bedroom.”

Liz and Hilton were about to leave the room when Jessie flicked the show back on and Anne went to sit by her. Hilton frowned at Jessie.

“It’s tasteful,” Jessie said.

“No, it’s borderline porn,” Hilton replied. She didn’t want Anne’s first look at lesbian sex to be on cable. She’d kind of envisioned showing her the ropes in a sensual setting at just the right moment.

They went down the hall to Liz’s room. Shannon was sleeping on an old sheet with her paw tucked protectively around her bone.

“Isn’t that sweet?” Liz said.

“She’s a good dog.”

“How was dinner?” Liz asked quietly.

“It was fine. Gerald is a nice man.”

“That’s it?” Liz said, raising her eyebrow.

“All right, he’s really good-looking, smart, and well-mannered.”

Hilton sat on the bed and stroked Shannon’s head.

“He’s not your competition, you know.”

“You’re right, of course. It’s just kind of hard meeting someone’s ex-husband.”

“Did Anne like her present?” Liz leaned in the doorframe.

Hilton could tell she was being studied.

“Very much.” Hilton smiled at the thought of it.

“You love her, don’t you?”

“Is it that obvious?” Hilton asked nervously.

“Only when you’re together,” Liz teased.

“I want this to work out,” Hilton said, looking intently at Liz as if she might have some clues written on her face.

“It will. Shall we leave her?” Liz asked, pointing to Shannon.

“If it’s all right with you.”

“That dog is the best electric blanket on the planet.”

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Hilton agreed and they rejoined the others.

“Wow, I had no idea,” Anne said. Jessie was apparently pointing out some of the finer points of the show.

Hilton could only imagine. “Let’s do the tour,” she suggested.

“Sure,” Anne said. She popped up instantly.

They went downstairs to the wine cellar. Anne stood in the middle of the room lined with cabinets full of bottles. Recessed lighting gave the room a warm glow.

“This is amazing.”

“It was one of Gran’s joys. She taught me everything and left behind a wicked reorder list so it’ll never be lacking.” Hilton picked out a Concha y Tora Cabernet Sauvignon and grabbed two wineglasses from a rack that hung over the bar. “I’ve been saving this for a special occasion. It’s from Chile and it rocks.”

“For us?” Anne said.

“But of course. Let’s go to the cottage and really celebrate your birthday,” Hilton said. She could have sworn Anne was almost being flirty.

“You mean without stress?”

“And dinner mints on silver trays,” Hilton said.

“Oh, we forgot about my lovely lunch.”

“How did that go?”

“My mother spent an entire two hours quizzing me about you.”

“Do I have that much of a biography?”

“She seems to think you do.”

They slipped out the kitchen door to the cottage, where Hilton put on a Nora Jones CD and poured the wine. Anne sat on the bed and propped the overstuffed pillow behind her. She looked quite comfortable. Hilton handed her a glass of wine.

Anne took a sip and then another sip. “Oh my, this is absolutely marvelous.”

“I’m glad you like it.” Hilton sat next to her. She wanted to tell Anne that she loved her, that she wanted a life together, to really be a couple and make a future, but she didn’t know how. The only other woman she’d loved was Nat and the only time she uttered 161