Two of a Kind Ch. 02

The air left my body like someone had poleaxed me. In one huge breath, my lungs emptied as I stared at Marcy. Her words bounced off of the walls of my fertile imagination in a very fast paced Wimbledon tennis game. Match, set, point.

How closely this woman's thoughts and words mirrored my own once again astounded me. Of course, her wish was a far site different than being prepared to forego male companionship...cock...in favor of a lesbian love. But if over the space of the past few weeks, I could get there, maybe Marcy could too? I did know that this was a unique opportunity to bring the idea up, one that I might not get again, one I could not afford to pass up.

I was thankful though that it was dark, that only the golden glow of the camp fire and the stars lit this hot summer night. I was certain that I was blushing. I knew I would stammer to get the words out. But I knew I had to take the chance. Life is not always fair. And fate does not usually give you second chances. So you had damned well better make the most of the first ones that you get. Even when you have no idea what the fuck you are doing or saying.

I giggled softly, "Yeah, something along those lines has been in my head for a couple of weeks actually."

She turned towards me then...and the world tilted on its axis. I lie not, it was as ridiculous as all those crappy, sappy romance novels I had read. The cheesiest one of my life. But damn was she beautiful. Her soft brown eyes were huge as the yellow and red flames danced in them. "Really?" she whispered as she clutched her chest like a little girl holding tightly to her special doll. "You too?" I heard the pleading for understanding in her voice.

I tried very hard not to read too much into things, not to let my imagination get too far ahead of me. But hope is a funny thing. Sort of like that campfire. It can look dead, cold, nothing but gray ash. But the least little breeze and coals buried deep beneath will rage to life, glowing red and providing heat that you thought long since dead. And once those flames are reignited it is a hard thing to push down. It was that kind of hope I was feeling in that moment. Like the birth of a new baby, a dream.

I foraged through my thoughts, my memories, everything I had learned about this amazing, beautiful, sexy, young woman. I tired to think of the right words. Words that would not instantly frighten her away.

"You know neither of us have to be men for us to love one another," I whispered like a prayer into the calm, cool, silent night air. And I held my breath.

She shook her head and chuckled, "It would sure help."

I could have taken those words at face value. I could have allowed them to be a bucket of water thrown upon the newly ignited fires of hope. I could have allowed them to extinguish it. Forever. Most people would have, right?

But not me, I could not. I had been alone too long. I had seen too much, fought too many fucking battles in this life. I was not going to give up that easily. "Close your eyes and just relax, Marcy," I entreated.

"Relax? Do you even remember what that is?" she asked as more tears cascaded down that beautiful face. My heart broke for her pain, our shared pain.

I knew in that moment that this was right. We were right. And the whole fucking world be damned, I would find a way somehow to show her that too. "Try," I said as I moved to sit behind her. I put my hands on her shoulders and began to massage the tight muscles beneath my fingers.

Just touching her, even in this non-sexual way felt so right, so damned right. How could religious bigots think this was sin? Sin was a man that failed to see this woman's strength, dignity and beauty. Sin was a society that condemned her for being a single mother, that without even asking made assumptions about her. Sin was her facing all of those prejudices, stresses and life alone.

She needed me...and I needed her. What's more, my logical brain argued, our children needed us and each other. We truly were one of those blended families were together we are stronger than the one. I just had to convince this woman that a penis was not necessary to make that dream come true.

I put my heart into working the tensions from that tired and achy muscles. I took my time. There truly was no rush. I found each knot and worked it beneath my fingers until I felt it loosen and disappear. Only then did I move onto the next one. One by one I took on those knots. I met their challenge and conquered them as I stared into the dying flames of that campfire. Of hope.

"Hmmm, that feels amazing," she whispered as she leaned back against me, leaned into my touch.

I have played that moment over and over again like the climax of some bad science fiction movie. That one moment in a time travel story upon which the fate of the whole fucking world rests. If I had been a lesser woman, a more insecure one, or even a younger me, I could have stopped. just let the opportunity slip me by. Rationalized that I did not want to push her too hard, scare her off. Promised myself there would be another chance.

But I was not and I did not. I recognized that moment for what it was...a once in a lifetime chance. And as the saying goes...'I boldly went where no man had gone before.'

I leaned forward, tilting my head just enough that we were face to face. Her eyes were closed. Her chest rose and fell in slow even breaths. She might have even been drifting into sleep. But our bodies had been asleep long enough.

I brushed my lips across hers then. Lightly. Almost like the whisper of butterfly wings. One thing that I have always known from that first fumbling girl-on-girl experience in college is that kissing another woman is totally different from kissing a man. For one thing, they are so fucking soft. And sweet.

They elicit in you this need to cherish, to savor, to taste, to enjoy. Kissing another woman is an end unto itself, not just a prelude to the main event to be gotten through as quickly as possible. It is like the half time show at the Super Bowl...a show unto itself.

My hands began to run slowly up and down her arms as if warming her where even the fire could not. In the end, I had to lace my fingers through hers to keep from grapping for her breast. I did not want to be like him. Like other men. I wanted to show her that this could work. We could work. And I just knew that the first step...and the only one that night...was a kiss.

But not just any kiss. I poured my all into that kiss. And it did not end with butterfly whispers either. But I took my time getting there. I tasted her surprised gasp of shock for a long moment. That sweet exhalation of surprise. Then I charged the fortress. My tongue swept into her mouth. Like some fucking knight in shining armor I charged across her lowered drawer bridge and I demanded her surrender. I tasted her fears and shock. I felt the tiny tremble that began at her lips and consumed her whole body.

Then as was our life then...and is still, "Mommy, I want some water." Crystal choose that exact moment to stop being the quiet one. I smiled...at fate. But somehow it felt right. As right as we were. I brushed a finger down her face, capturing some of the remaining moisture from her earlier tears, "My turn now," we laughed as I got up to get my daughter her water and settle her back in bed before she woke the others up...oh, please not that.

By the time I had accomplished what should have been an easy task but never ever is with an autistic child, Marcy had retreated to the safety of her sleeping bag. She had positioned it so that she was facing away from me. She was breathing softly, perhaps too softly, trying to vane sleep, maybe. But this night I let her. I figured I had shocked her, given her enough to think about on a cool, crisp starlight summer's night.

The next couple of days were busy for all of us. We hiked, although Crystal's whining that her legs were tired after only twenty minutes of walking meant that she and I stayed behind with baby Sadie while Marcy took Mandy and Josh the rest of the way up the mountain. We swam. The dirty pond water sent Josh practically into paranoia...algae, bacteria, fish, sharks. Yes, fresh water sharks in the mountain. Never let an autistic child watch the sci-fi or horror channels. Reality is scary enough for them, forget science fiction.

We laughed and yes, we loved. Not like that you dirty fuckers. We cared for one another. In fact, there was never another moment like that one by the camp fire. I think Marcy made certain of that. Carefully avoiding being alone with me again during the whole trip. In fact, it was not until the last day, as we packed my SUV after what for us was a successful trip that anything else was even mentioned.

Marcy and I were dropping the tent. Now I am sure that we could have played the whole damsels in distress card and gotten one of the men around there to help out. But one thing about being the single parent of a special needs child, it makes your fiercely independent. You do not want to have to ask anything from anyone.

The kids were running and playing nearby, enjoying their final moments of freedom before facing the long car ride back to the city. Marcy was working the tie downs and wires from the outside and I was working the poles from the inside. We got it wrong. I ended up wearing the tent.

I fought my way through the darkness. Did I mention I am a bit claustrophobic? I swung my arms wildly, feeling as if I could not breathe. It probably was only seconds, maybe a minute before I emerged into the bright midday sun, but it felt like hours, days, forever.

The first thing I saw was Marcy surrounded by four adorable children...all laughing their asses off, some of them even doubled over and in tears they were laughing so hard. What's a girl to do? I opened my arms wide and let out a giant roar and started chasing them around the camp ground.

When I caught Marcy, we ended up a laughing, giggling heap of arms and legs on the ground near that completely dead camp fire. It was a tickle contest with eight smaller hands joining and retreating at times. By the time it was over, we were all breathless and tired.

Marcy got up first then she held out her hand and helped my old lady ass up from the cold, hard ground. As she pulled me up, our bodies brushed against one another. She stared at the ground as I froze for a moment. Then she looked up at me with those deer caught in the headlights eyes and whispered, "Are you lesbian?" An immediate denial sprang to my lips but I never got the chance to utter it as suddenly we had four little ones to cope with once more.

I kept looking for a chance to talk to her about it all the way home. The drive back was a bit better. The kids were all exhausted plus Josh and Crystal knew they were returning to the known commodity of their homes...so they were way less anxious. Unfortunately, the children seemed determined to sleep in shifts and not once in the four hour drive home (I said better...our lives will never be easy or normal) did I have a moment alone with Marcy to answer to her question.

We dropped them off first of course. Josh hopped from the car and raced inside. Days without the computer and video games that were his refuge and safety net, his primary means of self-soothing. Of course, he was way too busy to help unpack the car. And if Josh was not helping then it was not fair as Crystal pointed out for her and Mandy to have to either. But Marcy did manage to convince the girls to let baby Sadie play with them while the 'big people' handled the hard stuff.

I was finally alone with Marcy...as alone as we get anyway. I was nervous as we both huddled into the back of my SUV, grabbing whatever we could and sorting it as we went. Maybe it was my imagination, but it seemed that Marcy tried to alternate it, avoiding me even. But this final load, we ended up both half immersed in tents, back packs and sleeping bags. It was my chance to explain. Some part of me feared that it might be the only one I got.

"Hey, Marcy, listen. I'm sorry if what I said made you nervous. And honestly, no, no I am not a lesbian. It is just that..." How could I explain? How could I maker her see that we were already in a relationship? Just a sexless one.

In the end, I gave up. "Forget it please. Just please, pretty please, don't let this effect the kids. They need each other. It would kill Crystal to loose Mandy. Well, Josh, Sadie and you too. But especially Mandy."

I knew I was blabbering along, not making any sense. But I could not stop myself. It seemed that too late I realized how foolishly I had jumped into things. Without any thought for how it might affect my daughter, our children. And that was an unpardonable sin that I almost never committed. But I had this time...for a woman. Maybe her rejection was my just desserts for doing something so foolish, I thought.

She looked up at me then. Her eyes wide as she shook her head in denial, "Of course not. I could never do that to the kids. You don't really think I would, did you?"

I shook my head and looked sheepishly at the ground, "I guess not. Sorry, I just was being foolish." Foolish for dreaming that even for a moment there could be something more maybe. Foolish for thinking that this beautiful young woman could...would...ever want me.

I shook myself. I am not one for self-pity. Oh, we all get down from time to time, especially when you have the pressure of raising a very special little person in this fucked up world where money and power mean more than people, especially little people and most especially those who are different. But I never allow myself to stay down for long.

I knew that when I got home and gave Crystal the iPad and laptop she had been begging for days for, that I would grab a glass of wine and turn on my 'sad' playlist. I would probably even cry...for what might have been. But tomorrow I would shake it off and get back to my job. The hand that life had dealt me. Raising the most amazing little person I know to be a strong woman...giving her the chance to have a life, a real one, a great one even. And that was a full-time job plus some.

And this woman understood that...times three. I was just glad that I had not screwed things up so badly that there was no going back. Relieved...and sad that this was it. All there ever would be. But hey on this winding, bumpy, pot-hole ridden road we call life, friends are always good. Sometimes all you have.

I smiled, "Thanks, Marcy." Just a couple of days ago I would have hugged her. But I figured now was not the best time to push those limits. I thought about holding out my hand in a sign of truce. But that seemed so artificial somehow. So I just went back to rummaging for any stray bags we might have missed.

We did that for a moment or two. Then I heard aa whisper. Marcy spoke so low that I could not even make it out, "What did you say?"

She was carefully studying the ground at her feet. Her pretty face was the cutest shade of pink like Crystal's got when she knew she had done something she was not supposed to. Marcy shifted nervously from foot to foot. "Have you?"

I was confused, "Have I what?"

That pink turned a brighter shade, almost red. "You know...been with a woman?"

I bit my lip. I really was not certain what to say. I did not want to frighten her. Scare her off even more. But on the other hand, honesty was the basis of friendship. I nodded, "Yeah, a couple of times."

"What...what was it like?" she stammered.

I shrugged, trying to be as casual as I could be. "Mostly it was my ex's idea...wanting to swing with other couples. So it is hard for me to say when it is more about doing something for someone else...being coerced. But in college a friend and I got drunk once." I stopped, maybe I had said too much already, I worried.

But she pressed onwards, "What happened? What was that like?"

It had been a lifetime ago. This young woman was barely out of diapers back then. I screwed up my face as I thought back to that experience and tried to answer her as honestly as I could. "It was nice...that night. She was soft. It was really different from being with a guy." I was uncertain still how much to say, so I figured in this case, less was better.

"What happened after that?"

I frowned as I faced the truth for the first time, "We drifted apart. Things were never the same."

She nodded and let it drop. We took the last of the stuff into her house. And went back to 'normal.' Or tried to anyway. But I was worried that over the next couple of weeks, things were just stiffer between us anyway. The children went on as usual. It is amazing how they can do that. But Marcy and I were more reserved...unnatural even.

So when one day about two weeks later we were having coffee, it hit me out of the blue when she said, "I have a favor to ask. Could you stay over Friday night and watch the kids? I have a date."

To be continued...