“I don’t know,” Amy answered. “At first I thought it might have something to do with Josh.” She looked at Irene. “You know, something to do with the strong resemblance. But now,” she bit her bottom lip, “I know it has nothing to do with him. It’s her. I’m attracted to her.” Amy looked at her hands. “Something happened before the wedding.”
“What?”
Amy hung her head. “I didn’t want it to happen, you know.”
“What?”
“I can’t explain it.” Amy rubbed her forehead. “Not so that you would understand. God, even I still don’t understand it.”
Amy stared into space.
“Amy?”
“I just couldn’t stop myself.” Amy closed her eyes. “I couldn’t resist her.” She looked at her mother. “Somehow when we began this, I thought it would fade.” Her hands clenched. “I desperately wanted it to fade.”
“I’m not sure if that was a good game plan.”
“No, it wasn’t” Amy half-smiled. “I thought because she hadn’t been around for four years, I would be able to put it behind me and get on with my life.” Determination crossed her eyes. “And that’s exactly what I intend to do. I’ll get back on track.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, it has to end. After this, I’ll put it behind me, like I did before.”
“Celeste is in love with you, Amy.”
Amy looked at her mother. “She said that?”
“Yes” Irene said, then smiled. “Very much so.”
“She actually said she loved me?”
“Amy, why else do you think you’d put yourselves through this?”
Surprised and not knowing what to think, Amy tried to absorb her mother’s words.
“
I’m beginning to think that you don’t know how you truly feel.” Irene said tentatively. “Celeste loves you, Amy. After seeing you together and with what you’ve said just now, I’m in no doubt that you feel the same way.” Irene closed her eyes and sighed. “But, you can’t be with the both of them. If you stay with Josh, then your life might not be empty, but you will be denying yourself the most important thing in life.”
Amy looked at her mother. “What?”
“Being with someone you love, jellybean.”
Amy shook her head. “But I don’t intend to be with them both. I intend to be with Josh.”
“Maybe I’m to blame for you seeking security and comfort from a man so similar to your father.” Irene looked away and brushed a tear from her eye.
Blindsided, Amy raised her eyebrows in surprise. She didn’t think that Josh was anything like her dad. “What do you mean?”
“Josh is dependable,” Irene revealed. “Amy, he’s the type of man that you can always rely on. He’s solid. He makes you feel safe, just like your father.”
Shock crossed Amy’s face.
“In my experience, life has a strange way of showing you what is real,” her mother continued. “When you make a decision to settle for second place, it bites you on the bum and reminds you that it isn’t going to be that easy.” She looked at Amy for a moment. “I can’t say anything, other than I know that Josh will survive, the children will survive.”
Amy looked at her mother and words of reinforcement spilled from her lips about how much she loved Josh and the children.
Irene sighed. “You are so like your father,” she said. “You’ve got that steely determination in your eyes. Amy, I’m pleading with you to realize that you can’t stay in a marriage when it’s clear you’re in love with someone else.” She added slowly, “You can’t stay because you have some sense that you are righting a wrong. It was me who left your father. Not you!”
Amy shook her head. “I’m staying because I love Josh. I’m staying because it’s the right thing to do. I could never leave Josh for Celeste, never.”
Irene was frustrated. Amy wasn’t prepared to accept that she had put herself at terrible risk to be with Celeste. She pushed. “Do you love her?”
Amy didn’t respond.
Determined, Irene repeated, “Do you love her?”
Amy looked at her and said as if the suggestion was absurd. “No! All that’s between Celeste and I is…” He words dried up. She looked at Irene. “I…There’s…”
Irene watched Amy struggle to form the words.
Amy stopped and took a deep breath. “There’s…” She dried up again.
“I…”
Irene wanted to tell her about love. That instead of fencing you in it sets you free. She wanted to tell her that it was like giving birth to a life, but instead of you feeding it, it feeds you.
But, instead, she said, “Let your heart speak, Amy.”
Amy’s shoulders slumped
. “I can’t stop thinking about her. I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t seem to function very well unless she’s around me.” She straightened and looked away. “It doesn’t matter, I’ve no intention of breaking up my family.”
“But Amy, if you accept that you love her,” Irene said, frustration creeping into her voice, “then you can’t stay with Josh just because of the boys.”
“I don’t accept anything!” Amy replied angrily. “And of course I can stay in anything as long as my family stays together! Look,” she said, moving her hands and feet, “I’m not in a ball and chain. I’m happy!”
“Amy,” Irene said. “People who are happy do not have affairs.”
Apparently, unable to argue with the simple truth, Amy looked at her mother intently. “I’ll get over Celeste and things will be all right, eventually. They’ll sort themselves out.”
Irene was reminded of the fourteen-year-old, frightened child she left behind. It was clear that Amy was frightened now.
Irene moved closer and taking her child in her arms, whispered, “I’m here for you.” She hugged her tightly. “I’ll always be here for you.”
It was Friday night, and Amy was excited. This morning she had helped Maggie pack the Jeep for their camping trip. Maggie’s parting words were that she was glad that Amy wasn’t coming as this trip would give her a chance to check out what kind of father material Sean was. She laughed and then added that if her boyfriend could handle Amy’s two for a weekend, then he could handle anything. She had hugged Amy and told her not to work too hard.
Amy felt guilty as she waved goodbye. Maggie thought her entire weekend would be taken up by work. But her guilt didn’t last; she was too excited about spending time with Celeste. Throughout the last four months they had only managed to snatch a few hours with each other here and there. This would be their first weekend since New York.
Josh had called from Seattle during a break from a round of afternoon meetings. He was keyed up. The company he was working for had decided to pull out of software development and had offered him and a few of his colleagues the opportunity of a management buyout. This round of meetings was designed to whip up investor interest. This was his big break.
The doorbell rang. Straightening her top, Amy looked in the mirror to check that she looked okay. Feeling the familiar tightness in her stomach, she ran downstairs. Not wanting to appear too keen she stopped at the bottom step, gathered herself, then made her way slowly to the front door. When she opened it, Celeste was standing there wearing dark jeans and a low-cut, cerise, sleeveless top.
Eyes wide, Amy followed Celeste’s long legs up over her waist only to halt at her protruding nipples, which, braless, stood out. Amy’s stomach knotted when she registered that Celeste’s hair was down. Celeste had a tendency to wear her hair up. A few months ago Amy told her that she liked it down and, ever since, Celeste had worn her hair down when she was with her.
“Hi,” Amy said. Giving Celeste an impatient smile, she hurried her into the house.
Celeste barely had time to close the door behind her and put down her weekend bag, along with some grocery bags, before Amy pushed her up against the wall.
Amy hadn’t seen Celeste the entire week. Desperately wanting to taste that teasing mouth, she kissed her hard. Celeste responded with the same ardor and kissed her deeply.
Loosening Amy’s hair, Celeste let it spill over her fingers before running her hands over Amy’s black cashmere top, searching out the swell of her breasts.
Amy groaned when Celeste touched her, and too impatient for niceties, said huskily, “I want you.” Pressing Celeste into the wall, she whispered, “God, how I want you.”
“Not here,” Celeste murmured, between kisses.
Amy looked at her and, nodding, took Celeste’s hand and led her to the guest bedroom.
Once there, Celeste kissed Amy everywhere. Undressing her, she registered that Amy’s movements were slowing and began to work faster at removing her clothes. Celeste had, over the last few months, seen Amy like this a few times. She had discovered, to her great pleasure that Amy only became languorous when she needed to come quickly.
Lying on the bed with her eyes half-closed, Amy murmured, “Hurry.”
Heart pounding at the sight of Amy’s naked body, Celeste hastily undressed. Groaning, she threw a thigh over Amy’s hip and lowering herself positioned her clit over Amy’s.
Groaning loudly, Amy’s eyes lost focus then closed.
Celeste pressed into Amy. This was a relatively new position they had found. “Amy look at me,” she whispered.
Amy slowly opened her eyes, and reaching up, cupped Celeste’s breasts. Celeste smiled knowingly. The blonde was fascinated with her breasts and whenever they made love, to Celeste’s amusement, she gave them her full attention. She particularly liked to knead them when coming.
Pressing down, Celeste groaned. She loved this, adored the sensation of sensitive wet flesh against sensitive wet flesh. She wasn’t surprised anymore by how quickly she was ready to come. Often, just touching Amy was enough to make her ready. Her breathing shallow, Celeste slid back and forth. Her eyes rolled back when Amy moaned loudly. Breathing heavily, she watched as Amy built to orgasm.
Gasping, Amy whispered, “I missed you.” She stroked Celeste’s nipple. “I couldn’t think of anything else since I woke up this morning,” her breathing deepened, “but being with you like this.”
Celeste listened as Amy told her how much she needed her, needed this. She adored her love chat. Amy often mentioned how it took her by surprise, her need to vocalize her desire for Celeste during their lovemaking.
Watching Amy, Celeste smiled, knowing that over the last few months, Amy was discovering much about herself.
The fire building inside her, Celeste let out a low moan and, needing release, pressed into Amy and brought them both to orgasm.
Slowly, Celeste slipped off Amy and lay next to her. Stretching out, she sighed luxuriously, then pulled Amy to her and hugged her tightly.
Amy laughed, and cupping Celeste’s face, whispered, “I have some fresh food and a few appetizers laid out in the kitchen for us, you know.”
Celeste raised her eyebrows. “Well, I don’t know about you,” she teased, “but I’ve worked up an appetite.” She let Amy go and leapt out of bed. Standing, she held out her hand. “Let’s go eat, I’m famished.”
Amy looked Celeste over. “Later,” she said seductively. Sitting up, she pulled Celeste to her. “We’ll eat later. Right now,” she whispered as she kissed Celeste’s shoulder, “I’m hungry for something else.”
It was much later before Celeste convinced Amy to leave the bed.
†
The next day, Celeste and Amy spent the morning in bed, chatting and making love. By late afternoon, Amy insisted that Celeste model for her. She had, over the last few months, talked Celeste into allowing her to sketch her in various positions.
Smiling, Celeste stretched out, only too happy to indulge Amy’s every whim.
Eventually, in the early evening, Celeste coaxed Amy out of bed, and out for a stroll.
Outside, the beach was quiet, and the evening sky was bright blue with no clouds.
“Have you spoken to your mom?” Celeste asked as they walked along the beach.
Amy looked at her, and folding her arms, replied, “Yes. But I’m not ready to talk about it.”
Celeste nodded.
They walked along the beach for a while. “Susan called me yesterday.”
Removing her flip-flops, Amy held them in one hand. “How is she?” she asked as they walked.
“She’s fine,” Celeste replied, taking Amy’s free hand. “They’ve set a date.”
“Oh,” Amy said in surprise. Looking around, she pulled her hand away then placed a flip-flop in each. Suddenly taking a great interest in the water pooling around her feet with each step, she asked, “When?”
Celeste stopped walking.
Amy stopped beside her, and not looking at her, flicked wet sand with her toe.
Trying to hide her irritation, Celeste kept her voice even, “The beach is empty.”
“I’m sorry,” Amy responded, trailing her toe along the sand. Not looking at Celeste, she added, “I can’t.”
After a moment, Celeste sighed and nodded. “I know.” She walked on.
Amy quickly followed. “When are they getting married?”
“In a few months,” Celeste replied. “But Ritchie isn’t happy, because the date coincides with the rugby world cup.”
“He likes rugby?” Amy asked in surprise.
“Yes.”
“I never got a chance to tell him I’m a rugby fan.” Amy chuckled. “I think we were still working through his teenage angst that night.” She looked at Celeste and grinned. “Maybe he was saving that little nugget for the next session…I mean…eh…the next time we met.”
Celeste laughed, and not able to resist, pulled Amy to her. “Felt like a therapy session did it?”
Amy smiled and nodded. “A bit.” She looked at Celeste. “He can really talk, you know.” She winked. “I mean, really talk!”
Celeste leaned her forehead against Amy’s and teased, “It’s a tough world out there, kiddo.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Amy replied. Casting her eyes around, she pulled out of Celeste’s arms and walked on. “Did I tell you that Maggie’s thinking about proposing to Sean?”
“No!” Celeste answered, walking alongside. No longer surprised that Amy confided in her, she asked, “I bet you told her that you thought it was too soon?”
Amy stopped walking and stared at Celeste, her mouth hung open slightly. “Am I that transparent?” she managed eventually.
“I hate to break it to you,” Celeste said as she reached out and smoothed windswept hair from Amy’s face. “But when it comes to those sorts of things you’re a bit old-fashioned.”
“Hell, no way am I old-fashioned.”
“Really?” Celeste raised an eyebrow challengingly. “I bet you told her to give it a year. Settle in. See what he’s like first.”
Amy’s eyes widened. “How do you know that?”
“I bet you even went as far as to say that the reason she should wait a year was because she was impulsive by nature and she should listen to the voice of reason. Your reason.”
“I…Well…I didn’t say that exactly. Not in so many words.” Amy scowled. “How did you know?”
Celeste laughed then winked at Amy, before walking on.
“I didn’t say it like that,” Amy said, catching up. “I just asked why she was in such a rush.”
“You didn’t tell her to wait?”
“Okay,” Amy said. “Okay. Maybe, I did say she should wait.” She squeezed her thumb and forefinger together, “a wee bit.” She pulled on Celeste’s arm, for her to stop. “What’s wrong with a little patience,” she asked. She threw out her arms. “Why is everybody in such a rush?” She stared at Celeste. “For all we know, he might be a complete fruitcake.”
“What? And Maggie isn’t?” Celeste asked, laughter danced across her eyes. “Admit it, Amy. You don’t want her to rush.”
“Why aren’t you being supportive,” Amy huffed then folded her arms.
“Because,” Celeste replied as she reached out and rubbed Amy’s arms, “Maggie could line a runway with the number of lovers she’s had. She’s been in the dating game for a long, long time.” She pulled Amy to her. “She knows better than anyone what the real thing is when it comes along.”
Just like I do, and just like you would, if you opened your eyes.
At that moment, Celeste desperately wanted to kiss Amy but knew she would literally pass out if she tried. Increasingly, over the last few months, Amy was wary of them being seen together in public, and worried often about how tactile they were. It amused Celeste that no matter how on guard Amy was, she was unable to hide the hunger in her eyes when they were together. Celeste knew that sometimes the intensity of that hunger frightened Amy.
“So, you think she shouldn’t wait?” Amy asked.
The need to kiss her was strong. Celeste sighed. “Let her do what she wants,” she replied. “Maggie’s a big girl.”
“Josh doesn’t think she should rush either.”
To stop herself from kissing Amy, Celeste stretched. To her amusement, whenever they debated, when Amy was pushed into a corner, she would occasionally defend her point of view by saying that Josh thought that way also.
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?” Celeste replied then walked on.
“You think we’re wrong?” Amy asked, walking alongside.
“Not necessarily, but I think Maggie knows her own mind.”