Love & Lies: Marisol's Story (19 page)

“That guy is great! Write down his name and the names of his books,” Gio said. “I want to get them.”

“There are bookstores in P’town. I bet we can find them there,” I said.

“We’re
not
going to Provincetown to look in
bookstores
,
for God’s sake!” Birdie piped up. “You can do that anywhere!”

“Maybe Diana has them,” Gio said. “She has a lot of poetry.”

Which reminded me that we weren’t all necessarily going to be hanging out together all weekend. Of course Gio would be with Diana. That was the only reason I’d even been willing to come down here with him—because he
wasn’t
going to be hanging around with me. And now, suddenly, I was feeling kind of bad about that. I was remembering how much I’d enjoyed spending time with him, until it had gotten all complicated by sex—or the lack of it.

Wouldn’t it be great if we all had a sex switch that we could turn off and on? So that you could hang out with somebody you liked as a friend and there would be no hurt feelings or sexual misunderstandings? I could turn mine on with Olivia and off around Lee and Gio. I guess the trick would be getting them to turn their switches off too.

We were hungry again by the time we got over the bridge and onto Cape Cod, so Gio pulled into a clam shack, the kind of place that has a three-foot lobster hanging over the doorway and seagulls circling the roof waiting for scraps.

As we crunched up to the take-out window, Lee said, “Are we walking on shells?”

“Yeah. More shells than dirt on Cape Cod,” I said.

Lee looked around her at the scrubby pine trees and the sandy paths that ran off into the woods. She took a deep breath. “Wow. I can’t see the ocean yet, but I can smell it. It’s so beautiful out here.”

“Just wait,” I said. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

“Thank you, Marisol,” she said, smiling. “For bringing me here. And, well, for everything.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you’re having a good time.”

“I am. I really am.”

The breeze was blowing her curls around, and she was holding her zippered sweatshirt closed with one hand while the other one hid in her back pocket. She looked very pretty, and it occurred to me that it was because she was happy. Maybe I’d never seen her really happy before.

Lee balked at ordering a clam roll, even though I raved about their local goodness, but Gio and I both got them, and everybody else, including Lee, ordered lobster rolls. We took our food to a picnic table and dug in.

“Oh my God, these are the best belly clams I’ve ever had,” Gio said.

I nodded in agreement. “Onion rings aren’t bad either.”

“Fries good too,” Damon mumbled as he stuffed a handful into his mouth.

“Tell us about it after you swallow,” Birdie said, rolling his eyes. If
I’d
said that, Birdie would have cut me down like a tree.

Gio picked out a particularly fat clam from his roll and held it out to Lee. “Come on. You have to try one—you’re on Cape Cod! There is nothing in the world like a perfectly fried belly clam.”

Lee looked worried. “It’s that word ‘belly’ that freaks me out,” she said. “I’m a midwestern girl. I like meat loaf and an ear of corn.”

“Trust me. My mother grew up in Coopersville, Indiana! Would I lie to you?”

Hesitantly, Lee took the food from his fingers and dared a small bite. “Ooh, it
is
good,” she said, and popped the rest in her mouth. “Mmm. I’ll never doubt you again, farm boy!”

Gio laughed and picked out another clam. “Told ya. Open up!”

She opened her mouth like a baby bird and let Gio feed another clam right into it. Quietly appalled, I watched them giggle. Oh my God, their car rapport was one thing, but feeding her by hand? Gio was doing it again! Didn’t this guy learn from his mistakes?

After we polished off the food, we took turns visiting the tiny restrooms. I made sure to corner Gio the minute Lee was out of sight.

“What are you doing?” I asked him.

“What do you mean?” All innocence.

“I mean the giggling and the flirting and the dropping of food into Lee’s mouth! She’s a lesbian too, Gio!”

He laughed. “I know that. Believe me, I’m not as stupid as I was six months ago.”

“No? You could have fooled me!” I sounded angry even to myself.

He gave me a funny look. “What are you getting all bent out of shape for? I like Lee, that’s all. She’s fun. You don’t have to worry—I’m not going to ask her to go to the prom with me.” He wiped his greasy fingers on a napkin and tossed it in the trash. “Besides, it’s obvious she’s crazy about you.”

A tremor ran through me. Had Gio’s emotional radar really improved this much?

“She is not,” I said. “We’re just friends.”

“
Please
. I saw the way she looked at you—or rather, I
recognized
the way she looked at you.”

We both stared at our shoes for a minute, and I wondered if Gio had the same lump in his throat that I had in mine. After a minute he shook his head. “I don’t get it, Marisol. How come you’re so crazy about Olivia when somebody like Lee is standing right in front of you?”

I cleared my throat. “Since when are you qualified to give advice on interpersonal relations?”

He smiled sheepishly and jammed his hands into his pockets. “I admit my track record is spotty, but I’m not blind. I can tell the real thing when I see it.”

“And you don’t think Olivia is the ‘real thing’?” I said, sarcastically.

He looked off down the road, and I thought he was going to ignore my question, but finally he turned around and answered. “There’s something wrong with her. Olivia. I mean, I know she’s smart and sexy and everything, but something isn’t right. I don’t know—I just don’t
trust
her.”

It was on the tip of my tongue to snap back a nasty reply about his thin skin. Just because she hadn’t liked his piece last week didn’t mean there was something
wrong
with her. But then I didn’t. Not because I agreed with him that Olivia was less than perfect, but because I knew he wasn’t saying it out of spite. Even though Gio had told me some stupid lies when we first met, about his name and certain prom details, he had never told me an emotional lie. He was always truthful with me about his feelings—even when I didn’t want him to be—which was a gift you didn’t get from too many people. I’d
asked Gio to be honest with me, so I shouldn’t complain just because I didn’t like what he had to say.

“Well,
I
trust her,” I said, in a flattened voice that barely convinced me, much less Gio. “And I know her better than you do.”

“Okay. You’re right,” he said, nodding. “I shouldn’t have said anything. You like Olivia and she likes you. So that’s great. What do I know?” He put his hand on my shoulder to convince me of his goodwill. “I’m sorry.”

What
did
he know? Damn it, now I felt that little worm of doubt wriggling around in my brain, questioning the things I thought I believed. How on earth did you ever decide you loved and trusted one person more than another? It was obviously a leap of faith, and I was not normally the kind of person to leap without looking pretty damn closely at what I was leaping into.

After lunch we continued on down the Cape to Truro to pick up Diana so she could ride into P’town with us. She was waiting outside her house when we drove up, horsing around with a big brown mutt. The house looked pretty ramshackle, unpainted gray shingles, with gutters hanging off the sides and a crack in the front window.

I waved to Diana and then busied myself with extricating my feet from the jungle of books, water bottles, and coffee and doughnut trash that had grown up around them in just a few hours. I didn’t want to actually
watch
Gio greeting Diana, but I did want to know how he did it, so I kept my cat-eyed lids low, observing slyly.

They both seemed to hesitate slightly as they came
together, but once there each sprang at the other, Diana throwing her arms around Gio’s neck. A substantial kiss announced that their relationship had definitely progressed past friendship. Wow, okay, that was terrific. That was what I’d been hoping for. So, why did I suddenly feel kicked in the stomach the way you do when you realize the person you love no longer feels the same way about you? I never wanted anything to happen between Gio and me—nothing
could
happen. Was I so selfish that I didn’t want anyone else to have him either?
Nice, Marisol. What a great friend you are.

Gio introduced Diana to Lee, Birdie, and Damon, and then Diana gave me a brief hug, the kind you give to people you’re a little scared of. I was pretty sure she hadn’t been intimidated by me last spring—this had to do with Gio, and her fear that he still liked me. Liked me more than he should. I really tried not to feel good about that, and I almost succeeded.

Back in the car. Another ten minutes and we were at the condo in Provincetown, which more than lived up to its billing.

“Oh, my God,” Diana said, staring out the second-floor picture window. “Look at this view! This is a million-dollar apartment!”

“That’s exactly what it is,” Birdie said proudly. “And we’re getting it free for the weekend because the guys who own it
adore
my mother.”

I checked out the bedrooms quickly and was relieved to find there were three of them—one each for me and Lee. That would make things much less awkward at bedtime. I
put my bag in one of the two smaller rooms, knowing Birdie would squawk if he and Damon didn’t get the master suite.

Lee stood at the picture window staring at the beach and the bay, which spread out below us. Finally she whispered, “Is that the ocean?”

“That’s the bay,” I said, “but it joins the ocean at Herring Cove Beach, not far from here. We’ll go there to see the dunes. You will
love
the dunes!”

“And then we’ll come back and sip champagne in the hot tub!” Birdie said as he pulled a big green bottle from his duffel bag.

“You brought champagne?” Gio said. “Jesus, it’s a good thing we didn’t get stopped.”

“Oh, don’t wet your knickers, Gramma,” Birdie said. “I’m finally in Provincetown, and I’m celebrating!”

“Where are we going for dinner?” Damon wanted to know.

“You’re thinking about dinner already?” I said. “We just had an enormous lunch an hour ago.”

“Diana and I will go to the dunes with you, if that’s okay, but we’re having dinner at her house, with her dad,” Gio said.

“But then we’re coming back into town later to go dancing,” Diana said, taking Gio’s hand. “For old times’ sake.”

Gio blushed. “Yeah. Lousy dancer that I am.”

“You aren’t!” Diane said. “You’re great!”

Oh, God, this could be weird.
“So, you’re going to Butterfield’s, I guess,” I said.

Diana nodded. “You guys should meet us there. You remember how much fun it is, Marisol.”

What I remembered was dancing with June and B. J. and several other lesbians so I wouldn’t ever be free to dance with Gio. I’d danced with him once, at his prom, and things had gotten totally out of control—I didn’t intend to let that happen again. The trip to Provincetown was meant to show him that it wouldn’t. Gio had danced with Diana that evening, which had probably given her the idea that eventually led to this weekend, her hand gripped firmly in his.

“Dancing! Absolutely!” Birdie said. “We intend to dance until we fall on our asses, don’t we, Damon?”

But Damon had already fallen on his ass and was fast asleep in a lounge chair on the terrace.

S
INCE THE AFTERNOON HAD GOTTEN
quite warm, we put on our swimming suits and sandals and brought towels and warmer clothes with us to Herring Cove. The water was cold, but we all went in—even Damon—daring each other to go deeper and deeper until we were in over our heads. It was so calm I floated on my back, feeling more relaxed than I had in ages.

By the time we got out, the sun had gone behind clouds. Freezing, we hurriedly dried off and pulled sweatshirts and jeans on over our damp suits. Lee’s teeth were actually chattering, and at first we gave her some grief about being a wimpy midwesterner. But when we saw that she really couldn’t get warm, Gio and I made a sandwich with her in the middle and hugged her until her lips weren’t blue anymore.

Okay, the three-way hug was a little weird, but it happened so spontaneously it didn’t freak anybody out. It wasn’t as if Gio and I were hugging each other—and yet I did feel as if all three of us were warming each other up. And I don’t mean that in a sexual way. It was as if he and I were transmitting messages back and forth that said,
I like you a lot, you big idiot; we’re still friends.
And Lee, in the middle, was not a
buffer between us, but a conduit for the message, some of which was sticking to her, too.

When our huddle broke apart, Gio went right to Diana and gave her a big squeeze—to reassure her, I guess. As we trudged up the sand hill and into the dunes, Diana and Gio smooching on one side and Birdie and Damon bumping hips on the other, I suddenly realized that Lee and I were in the company of two couples. Lord, it’s so uncomfortable to be the ones not in a relationship when everyone around you is making affectionate noises in pairs. Fortunately, Lee was falling in love with the landscape and didn’t seem to notice the high hormone levels surrounding us.

After our hike Gio and Diana dropped us at the condo and went back to Truro. We cracked open Birdie’s champagne and sat in the hot tub and then the lounge chairs, snoozing and getting slightly sloshed as the sun went down.

By eight o’clock we were showered and back out on the magical streets of Provincetown, threading our way through the throngs of gorgeous bodies, all tanned and muscled and homosexual. Every now and then we saw a heterosexual couple holding hands or pushing a stroller, but they were only tourists; the town didn’t really belong to them the way it did to us. It was a feeling I’d never had anywhere else—that the world was really
mine
.

Birdie and Damon were indulging in their great mutual interest: shopping. They perused both the windows full of art objects and the men who passed by in tight pants and unbuttoned shirts—art objects themselves.