“Just to be clear, I have absolutely no problem with you drinking, or being around people who drink. Being sober is my own, very personal choice and it should have no bearing on yours.”
“Well, given the company I work for…” Kristin didn’t know if the time was right for a half joke, but she tried anyway.
“I organize parties in my spare time. I was in charge of getting wine sponsorship. Really, it’s a non-issue. It’s not a hardship for me not to drink. I’m not a recovering addict. It’s a choice, that’s all.” Sheryl shifted in her seat. “And, ironically, if it wasn’t for wine, I wouldn’t be sitting here with you.” The palm she put on top of Kristin’s hand was soft and tender.
Kristin had many more questions but didn’t feel it was the right time to press for answers.
Sheryl hadn’t meant to go all gloomy and nostalgic, though she should have anticipated it. Coming to the cabin always had the same effect on her. That was why she usually came here alone. Either way, she wouldn’t be able to keep her family’s dark secrets from Kristin forever, and a tiny glimpse now would, hopefully, inoculate Kristin against the real darkness that lurked in all the things still left unsaid.
“Let’s eat,” she said. But this meant letting go of Kristin’s hand in hers, which she decidedly did not want to do. Though the sooner they ate, the sooner the time for other activities would roll around.
“Have you brought many women here?” Kristin inquired, after they filled their plates in silence.
“Only one.” Sheryl heaped a piece of cheese onto a hunk of bread. “You.” She hadn’t meant it to sound so severe, but it was the truth. She’d certainly contemplated bringing girls here before, but something had always come up, either on her part or the other woman’s. It was only now, with Kristin, that so easily, so suddenly, the stars had aligned and brought them here.
“I guess I’m flattered then.”
“I’m flattered that you came.”
“I didn’t exactly know I was coming here, but for the record, I would have come anyway.”
Sheryl couldn’t stifle a laugh. “Touché. I lured you here.”
“I wonder why.” Kristin slid her plate away from her, indicating she was done eating.
“There’s one thing in particular I wanted you to see. Give it another few hours, until darkness has totally fallen, and I’ll take you to a small clearing over there.” She pointed to the spot where her mother had first taken her years ago. “You don’t see stars like that in the city.”
Kristin quirked up her eyebrows and sucked her bottom lip between her teeth. “Whatever will we do to kill the time until the stars show up?”
“Wash some dishes perhaps.” Sheryl didn’t know why she suddenly got cold feet. Perhaps she’d shown a bit more of herself than she’d wanted already and it left her, for now, a little too insecure to play the part she liked to play. The forward one. The guiding force.
“How about we do those later?” Kristin pushed her chair back, rose, and took the few tiny steps needed to bridge the gap between them. “I can think of something so much better to do.”
“I’m not objecting one bit.”
“Good.” Kristin bent down and kissed Sheryl fully on the lips. Her lips were so soft, so everything Sheryl had dreamed of as she sat on this very porch so often, looking out over the wonderful views, and feeling so alone—despite her many friends, acquaintances, and, even, lovers. A loneliness she never discussed, not even in her group of friends where no topic was off limits. In fact, the more taboo it was, the more you were encouraged to talk about it. Repression be damned—or in Aimee’s words: “what you resist, persists.” But for Sheryl, there was one thing she never mentioned. And it was the one thing that fed the deep, unshakable loneliness inside of her, in a way that, she sometimes believed, she had grown addicted to. The way her father had grown addicted to booze to alleviate the pain of losing her mother.
When they broke from the kiss, which was long and lingering, coming in waves, the intensity ratcheting up, then receding so they could suck some much-needed air into their lungs, Sheryl pushed herself out of her chair. She was of half a mind to curl an arm underneath Kristin’s legs, swoop her up, and carry her to the bedroom. Even though they were the same height, Kristin seemed so much lighter than her, less bulky, easy to carry around like that.
“Let’s go inside,” she said, her voice breaking a little. Instead of picking Kristin up, she slung an arm around her waist and coaxed her to the bedroom.