Larissa shuffles over to the table and sits down while I sit the boys in their high-chairs.
“Aren’t you going to be late?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “Trial starts at eleven.”
“Huh.” I start to feed the babies, but my mind wanders off, back to yesterday, to
Nat in her filthy clothes and how badly I wished I’d kissed her under the porch. “Hey, Larissa...can I ask you something?”
“Am I in trouble?” “
No.” Avery gleefully spits banana all over the place. “But I might be. Well, not ‘trouble,’ exactly.”
“Let me try to wake up a little then.” She sits up and rubs her face. “Sounds serious.”
“It’s about Nat.” Felix mucks his hands in the goo on his highchair.
“Uh-huh.” Larissa nods. “Talk to me.”
“Well, yesterday she was here and there was this moment when I—” Felix smacks his lips and grins at me. Suddenly it all seems very unlikely, like my imagination was making up life where there was just boredom. “Never mind.”
Larissa shakes her head. “Talk to me, Hope.”
“It’s just that—” Geez, I wish I didn’t blush so easily.
“Wait a minute, I know where this is going...” Larissa sets her coffee down. “She made a pass at you, didn’t she?”
“So she is?” I asked.
“Is what?”
“Gay?”
“Was there any doubt?” Larissa laughs. She raps my head. “Is your gaydar out of whack, hon?”
“Do I have a gaydar?”
“Doesn’t everybody?” says Larissa.
I spoon some more bananas at the boys. “What does yours say about me?”
Larissa gets up for more coffee. “It says you’re young.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means whatever you want it to mean.” She leans against the counter. “What do you want it to mean?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug.
“What happened yesterday?”
I tell her. “So? Do you think I’m crazy?” “Not at all.” Larissa shakes her head. “She wants you.”
“Does that make me gay?”
“Someone coming on to you doesn’t make you gay,” Larissa laughs. “It’s how you react that matters.”
“Oh.” I give up on the bananas and get a cloth to wipe the highchair trays.
“Oh? That’s it? You’re not going to tell me how you reacted?”
“I’m not sure.” I wipe the highchairs, and then I get a facecloth and wipe the boys’ faces and hands and set them on the rug with their toys, and all the while Larissa stares at me.
“What?” I say.
“It’s okay,” Larissa says. “You don’t have to tell me. It’s rude of me to ask. I’m sorry.”
“Well, I think that maybe I wanted to kiss her. Maybe. I think.”
“Wow.” Larissa’s eyes widen. “Is that a new thing for you? Girls, I mean?”
I nod, and then, all of a sudden, the giddiness I’d woken up with evaporates and terror sets in. What will Joy say? And everyone at the farm? And Nat? What if I’m way off and I’m really as straight as it gets and am just suffering from a fleeting moment of questioning because of my lesbian environs, and now I’ve laid my soul bare when I didn’t need to? I should’ve kept my mouth shut, at least until
I’d kissed her. At least until I knew for sure. I feel my eyes well up. I am just one big human mood swing and I want off.
“Oh, Hope.” Larissa hugs me as the tears let loose. “This is a big deal for you, huh?”
“I don’t know,” I say, gulping between sobs. “It’s just weird, that’s all.”
“I came out in college,” Larissa says. “Her name was Monica—”
“But I’m not coming out!” I cry even harder. “I don’t know what’s going on! That’s the problem, don’t you understand?”
“You do whatever you need to.” Larissa’s voice softens. “No one’s going to jump to conclusions. Yourself included, okay?”
“Don’t tell anyone, okay?”
Larissa nods.
“Even Maira, okay?”
“Okay.” Larissa sits herself with the boys on the rug. “How about you go take a shower or a walk or something before I go?”
I nod. “Thanks, Larissa.”
Larissa shrugs. “Not sure that I helped, but you’re welcome.”
Chapter Eight
I take Daisy for a walk in the park, which doesn’t clear my mind much because I keep thinking I see Nat and Clocker in the distance, and I’m not even sure if I want to run into her or never see her again so long as I live. When I get back, Larissa leaves for her trial, and I pack the twins into the double stroller and go wandering the neighborhood, trying to distract myself with the bustle of Brooklyn. It doesn’t work.
I end up just up a block from the bike shop where Nat works. I try to tell myself it isn’t on purpose, but the fact is that I want to see her. Need to, actually. I need to know if I still want to kiss her, because if I don’t, then I don’t have anything to worry about. Back to business as usual, right? Maybe Bruce has some younger friends he could set me up with. Actually, come to think of it, that could be a very good idea. A tidy little summer fling in New York with some studly actor wannabe? I can think of worse things...and besides, this whole kissing girls thing is probably just a phase.
That’d be just like me. I’ve always been impressionable. Like when the Buddhist Woofers came to the farm and I wanted to be a Buddhist. And when the fire spinners came and I wanted to go on tour with them, just like that. And then there was my vegan phase and my Wicca phase and my militant anti-fur phase. So maybe this is just a case of me being some kind of unoriginal queer wannabe? How pathetic that I don’t even know myself well enough to know if I like boys or girls. Or both?
One of the bike mechanics is sitting outside smoking. I’m a bundle of nerves, so I hustle right past and all the way down to the end of the block, where I shake my head in wonder. Why hadn’t I gone in?
I look back. Nat has joined the mechanic on the bench. She’s sitting in the shade, but I can tell it’s her, and after just that one glance I also know something else. I am no queer wannabe. This is no phase. This is for real. Real, like breathing. Real, like lightning sheets in summer storms. Real, like my pounding heart and racing thoughts.
Real
. Uh-oh.
I’m in big trouble. Not only do I still want to kiss her, but I
have
to kiss her. And I know it for sure from all the way at the end of the block. I don’t think she’s seen me. I should take off before she does so I don’t do anything I might regret. But I’m stuck, transfixed, staring at her as she stands and moves into the sun, still talking to the mechanic. They both squat to check out a bike. Seconds later, she stands to grab a passing girl in a hug. They laugh, and she lifts the cute girl with blue hair right off her feet.
Uh-oh.
I’m in bigger trouble than I thought. I’m jealous! I yank the stroller around and turn the corner. I sit on a bench outside a store and take a deep, steadying breath. Get a grip, Hope.
I check on the babies. They’re both still sleeping. Imagine being so little and fresh and new to the world...right now their lives are perfect and unblemished. Just you wait, little guys. My life, on the other hand...I put my head in my hands and give it all a great big think.
Okay, so I obviously have a crush on Nat. I might be new to the whole girl thing, but I’m not new to how being crushed out feels. This is a crush of the highest order. It’s about way more than a kiss now.
Suddenly I’m in somebody’s shadow. Sigh. I don’t have to look up to know it’s Nat.
“Hey,” she says.
I keep my head in my hands. “Hi?”
“You went right past and you didn’t come in.”
“So you followed me?”
She doesn’t say anything, so I look up. There she is, flashing that smile again. “That’s right.”
“Okay.”
“Okay, what?”
I shrug and replace my head in my hands.
“Hey, Hope.” She taps my shoulder.
I don’t look up. “Yeah?”
“Something the matter?”
I laugh. I guess I have to look up now, before she starts to think that I’m some kind of social retard. “It’s nothing. Never mind.”
“It’s something.”
“I think I’m just homesick, that’s all,” I say.
She sits beside me on the bench, very close, considering there’s the whole bench to be had.
“Miss your friends?”
I shake my head. “Not as much as I miss my parents.”
“Wow. That’s unusual,” she laughs.
“We’re really close.” Touchy subject. I can feel the tears already. “They’re in Thailand,
building a school, so it’s not like I can just pick up the phone and call them and tell them—” Time to shut up, Hope.
Nat lifts her arm in that classic “gonna-drape-it-across-your-shoulders” move, but instead she clasps her hands together and sets them in her lap. “Ice cream?”
“Now?”
“I think you are in desperate need of some Uncle Louie G’s Peanut Butter Thrill.”
“I don’t like Peanut Butter Thrill.”
“Okay.” She stands and stretches. “So, what do you like?”
Sigh. Why does everything she says seem like a come-on?
“Chocolate Commotion.” Thank the Universe that we are sitting in the shade and my out-of-control blushing isn’t so obvious.
“Correction, then.” She takes my hand and pulls me up. “I think you are in desperate need of some of Uncle Louie G’s Chocolate Commotion. Come on.” She lets go of my hand. “My treat.”
I clutch the stroller, afraid that if I don’t hold onto something with both hands I’ll
throw myself at her and chuck her to the ground and try out that kiss right here in the middle of the sidewalk, or, at the very least, grab her hand back and cling to it for dear life. Orion used to tease me that I was a pouncer. Maybe he was right.
Nat shoves her hands into her pockets and I push the stroller, and together we walk to Uncle Louie G’s in near silence, the dogs trailing behind us, collecting their pee-mail. I really, truly, madly want to know what she’s thinking, and if that wasn’t such a murdered line, I might ask. She buys the ice cream, and we sit at one of the tables to eat it.
“How can you just leave work any time you want?” I ask, proud of myself for finding a safe topic.
“I’m the boss,” she says.
“What?”
“I own the shop.”
“Wow, that’s cool.”
“You know how you’re close to your parents?” Nat says.
I nod, trying to keep up with my melting ice cream.
“Well I’m not.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
“They’re big into God.” Nat shrugs. “And not so big into me being me.”
“My parents are the kind who love for their kids to be a little freaky. They think it reflects positively on their parenting. They’re hippies. ”
“Yeah, Maira told me the other day when she brought in the bike trailer for the babies. I think she’s jealous.” Nat gives her waffle cone to Clocker. “Anyway, my parents bought me the shop, basically to keep me out of their hair. They’ve got a chain of used car lots in Iowa. They didn’t exactly want me in the family business.”
“How old are you?” I ask.
“Nineteen.”
“That’s not so bad,” I blurt.
“What do you mean?”
I mean the age gap is far better than the one with Orion, but I’m not about to tell her that. “The setup with your parents.”
“You know I’m queer, right?”
“Yeah, Larissa told me.” A rush of heat
floods my cheeks and belly. I focus on what’s left of my ice cream.
Nat laughs. “Probably warned you is my guess.”
I gulp, hoping the knot in my stomach will ease. My heart races. I’m really just a colossal mess, like the toddler at the next table who’s covered in strawberry ice cream from head to toe. “What makes you say that?”
“You’re my type. And they both know it.”
“Wow.” My head finds its way back into my hands again.
“Oh. Shit.” Nat touches me, but then pulls away. “Sorry. I didn’t mean...well, I did mean, but not if you aren’t—or don’t— ”
But I do! I do! I feel a pounce coming on. Will I? Really? Right here outside Uncle Louie G’s?
“Are you okay?”
I force myself to look at her. I am way past just wanting to kiss her. The word “ravage” comes to mind. “I’m your type? Really?”
“Cute, smart, funny.” Nat grins. “Want me to go on?”
She has her hands placed firmly on her thighs, as if she’s holding herself down. I lift one of her hands in mine. I cannot believe I’m making a move on her, but at the same time, how can I not? I’m about to take off into the stratosphere without her, so I have to hold on or I’ll leave her behind. She stares at her hand in mine. We both stand up, as if we’re going to bolt in opposite directions, and our holding hands is the only thing stopping us.
“I like you, Hope.” She stares at our hands. “You know that, right?”
“Not until right this minute.” I think this means I wasn’t making any of it up. I do have a gaydar! “Wow. That’s really cool.”
“Really?”
“I think so, but I’m kind of new to this.”
“Which part?”
“The girl parts.” I drop her hand. “I cannot believe I just said that.”
She starts laughing, and then we both crack up.
When we’re down to giggles, she takes my hand back. “Now?”
“Now what?”
“You know what.”
And so I kiss her, just a little one on the cheek, and then I linger my lips there and move them toward hers. “This?” I whisper.
“Exactly this.” She holds the back of my neck and pulls me to her and kisses me back, and within seconds she has officially surpassed all eleven boys on my kissed list and moved right into first place. She slides the hand at my neck down my back and into the pocket of my shorts. She takes my other hand with her free one, and then she pulls away.
“I’m going to ask you out and you’re not going to say no, are you?” She laughs. “I don’t even have to ask, because that kiss...
that
was my answer. Wow.”
The teenage guys working at Uncle Louie G’s wolf whistle at us.
“Yeah, baby!” The taller one rubs his hands together. “Do it again!”
“Shut up, Julio!” Nat flashes him the finger and then touches my cheek. “And I hope you don’t have a problem with being out, because this is as out as it gets, girl.”
“C’mon. Why you get more action than us, huh?” Julio hollers. “What you got I don’t?”
“You’d like to know, man.” Nat laughs again and then squeezes my hand. “Right outside Louie G’s! You are something else!”