Beautiful Pt. 05

We made love until almost midnight, with as many giggles and squeals than sighs and moans. It was fun, and it made me feel young and sexy. But nothing we did felt as amazing when she folded me into her arms under the covers, pressing her gentle kisses to my forehead.

I was just relaxing towards sleep when I felt her energy change. I opened my eyes and looked into hers. "What is it, sweetheart?"

"Just, um, can I ask you a question?"

"Of course."

"Was I, um, do I get too pushy? With you, like, making you, um, do things?"

"What do you mean?"

She rolled onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. "I've had girlfriends who've told me I get pushy and demanding in bed, sometimes."

I rolled towards her. "I don't mind." I ran a finger down between her breasts. "I like it, most of the time. All the time, really. I don't want to start calling you mistress, or having you tie me up or anything, but that surrender, I love that."

"Okay. Just tell me if I go too far."

"I promise, but I doubt you will."

She turned back towards me, her mischievous smile back. "So, no handcuffs or anything?"

I shook my head. "Bill and I tried that once, when we were trying to spice things up, but I hated it. I liked giving up control, though, that feels good. Especially when you know the person you're with loves you."

"With all my heart." Her voice wavered with emotion, and our lips met. She pulled me close and I resumed nodding off. But as I did I could feel how different this was than what I'd had before. Bill and I had never been equals. I'd been stunned he'd wanted to date me, or marry me. I'd never felt worthy, even when I'd been young and beautiful, by the world's standards at least.

Now, here, I wasn't what my younger self would have called young or beautiful. But I was loved and desired. And what Sandy and I had was an equal partnership. I'd always felt that I needed others more than they needed me. But this wasn't like that. Sandy needed me, and loved me, and maybe this really could last a lifetime.

***

The sizzle of bacon could be heard if you stood close to the oven. The smell, on the other hand, was filling the whole house. I'd heard movement from all three of my kids, so this would likely bring them down quickly.

I hadn't forgotten what I'd left on Paige's bed, and I admit I kept glancing towards the stairs to see if she was coming down.

"Relax, she'll be fine."

I looked over at Sandy, who was sitting at the kitchen table reading. She just read my mind, no big deal. I stirred the eggs for a moment longer before I heard movement from upstairs, and my daughter made her appearance.

"Good morning, Sweetheart."

She just smiled and walked up to me, giving me a kiss on the cheek. "Thanks, Mom."

"You're welcome, Honey. Love you."

"Love you too." She turned away. "Morning, Coach."

"Good morning, Paige."

"Are you coming to church with us?"

"I think so, as long as I'd be welcome."

I went back to the eggs as they talked. I'm not sure what exactly our pastor felt about same sex relationships, as he never spoke about them from the pulpit. But it was in the church bylaws that marriage was between a man and a woman, and there weren't any open same sex couples as members of which I was aware. We'd talked about it, and Sandy was going to come today, but we'd refrain from any PDA's until we were more sure of things. But if we couldn't be ourselves eventually, we'd leave. I would leave.

The day itself went well. Penny Hobson was eager to say hello again, probably feeling more than a little important because she knew (sort of) the new visitor, and everyone I introduced her to was very kind. But I wondered what the difference would have been if we'd been holding hands. I realized about five minutes in that anything less than that would be intolerable to me long term. I had introduced her to the pastor, who was friendly as always. As I walked away I decided to call him this week to talk and try to nail him down on our church's position.

Sandy and Will were locked into a friendly debate over something the pastor had said during his sermon. I was just enjoying the fact that they were talking civilly. The best way to earn Will's respect was to argue with him, and I was ecstatic to see them getting along. I was lost in 'what's going to be for lunch' world as I pulled into the driveway, so much so that I didn't notice the four door sedan sitting in front of my house.

I'd just finished shooing everyone upstairs to change out of their church clothes when the doorbell rang. I finished tying on my apron, shrugging at Sandy's questioning look as I headed toward the door.

Two men were standing on my porch, both in pressed, professional suits. I pulled open the door. "Can I help you?"

"Melanie Pierson?"

"Yes?"

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a leather bi-fold badge holder, which he flipped open. "I'm Detective McMillan, this is Detective Miller, Raleigh Police Department. I'm afraid I need to talk to your daughter. Is she home?"

My mouth dropped open in disbelief, a cold wash of anger and panic flooding through me. The second detective misread my expression, holding up his hand in what he probably thought was a reassuring manner. "Don't worry, Paige isn't in any kind of trouble."

"Yes, I know. No one is any kind of trouble, because no one did anything wrong. God!" I huffed out, stepping aside and allowing them into my foyer, holding my hand out toward the sitting room.

"Melanie? Is everything okay? Hi." Sandy'd stepped into the room, and was now staring down the two men with her hardest coaching gaze.

"Detectives, you should know Sandra Dalton." I stepped to her side, taking Sandy's hand. "My girlfriend."

It was obvious by their expressions that they did know her, or at least they recognized the name, and that they were more than a little surprised to see her.

"Mom?"

I didn't turn towards my younger son's voice, coming from the top of the stairs. "Charlie, will you ask your sister to come down as soon as she can? Please?"

"Yeah, sure." He turned away, shouting Paige's name, and I kept my eyes on the two officers. "Sweetheart, these are Detectives McMillan and Miller. They're here to ask Paige about those stupid pictures."

"So you've seen them?"

"I have. We all have. There's nothing remotely incriminating about them. Have you seen them?" I put a little dose of condescension in my voice, trying to imply that if they had, they wouldn't even be here.

"Ma'am, you understand that there's been an allegation of sexual abuse against a student? Not just a student, but your daughter? We have to investigate."

I forced my annoyance down. "You're right, of course. But I hope this is the end of it."

Almost on cue Paige entered, having changed out of her conservative dress from service into a casual pair of jeans and a scoop neck tee. "Mom? What's, um what's going on?" Her voice was unsure as her eyes fell across the two men in our sitting room.

"These two gentlemen are detectives, who want to talk to you about your torrid affair with Coach Dalton." I didn't fully keep the disdain out of my voice, which the two officers obviously did not appreciate. Or deserve really, they were just doing their job, and an important one at that. But at the moment my anger at the whole situation was too hard to overcome.

"Sweetheart," Sandy squeezed my hand, "we have to take this seriously. I'll go start lunch." She turned and headed into the kitchen as Paige stepped hesitantly into the room.

McMillan looked at me. "Ma'am, I'm concerned we might not get reliable information with, um..." He indicated in the direction Sandy had just left.

Miller stepped forward, speaking softly. "Mrs. Pierson, we find that people are not forthcoming when their abusers are in close proximity."

I lowered my voice as well. "Why don't you just ask your questions, and then decide if Paige is hiding or scared or anything."

He nodded, turning to Paige, who was still standing quietly to the side. "Miss Pierson, do you want to sit down?" He motioned toward the couch and Paige sat. I took the spot next to her as the detectives claimed spots across from us.

McMillan held his hands up. "Now Paige, we want you to know you aren't in any trouble."

"I'm aware."

"So, can you tell us about the first time Coach Dalton made sexual advances towards you?"

I opened my mouth to protest, but Paige put her hand on my knee to stop me. "Mom, I got this." She turned to McMillan, speaking confidently and with just a touch of sass. "No, because it's never happened."

"Paige, we know that's not true." He held his huge phone, the picture of Sandy and Paige hugging in the car displayed.

Paige made an incredulous face. "That wasn't a sexual advance. That's a hug. Have you had sex with every person you've ever hugged?" The detective's face flashed with annoyance, maybe even anger, and it was my turn to play peacemaker.

"Paige."

"Sorry, Mom. Look, Mom had told me Coach Dalton was going to drive me home after practice. On the way we talked about stuff."

Miller looked up from his notes. "What stuff?"

"I knew they were dating, her and my Mom, and I told her that I'd never seen my mom so happy. She got real emotional after that, like happy. Seriously, she only has eyes for my mom."

"And that's all that happened?"

"We talked about other stuff, none of your business stuff, none of it having to do with sex between the two of us. And then we hugged. It lasted maybe two or three seconds, and was very platonic. Then we went inside."

"What happened then?"

Paige shrugged. "I worked on homework at the dining table while Coach made dinner. We talked more, mostly all about Field Hockey, the team. I asked her stuff about college, where I should go, things like that. And then Mom and my brothers got home."

"Satisfied?" I glanced back and forth between the two men, who exchanged a significant look. This was clearly not what they had been expecting.

"We have other reports of her being at this house."

"I would imagine so. She's been here a lot. Like I said, we're seeing each other." I sighed. "If you want, I'd be glad to confirm the dates and times."

"Okay." Miller looked at his partner. "We need to go talk to the captain."

He nodded, and they both stood. I walked them out, mostly to make sure they actually got in their car and left. Detective Miller turned back to me at the base of the porch stairs.

"I can't guarantee anything, but I'm going to recommend we drop this. But this came down from above, and the only reason we're here, on Sunday, is that the press have already been calling about it, and the captain wants to be able to say we're investigating. If the press keeps pushing..." He shrugged apologetically.

"What have you been told?"

"That we were coming to get a statement from an abused girl. That we were investigating a predator. We didn't expect to find that suspect here, having lunch with said girl." The detective heaved a sigh. "I've been doing this a long time, and I've investigated more of these cases than, well, let's just say there are too many. You develop a sense about it, an off energy when you see it. It's not always perfectly accurate, and I always do my due diligence, but still."

"And what do you feel here?"

"To be honest, I feel like someone is playing me for a fool."

"Yeah," I crossed my arms under my breasts, "and I can tell you who."

He held up a hand. "That's okay, don't tell me. I wouldn't be much of a detective if I couldn't figure it out myself. Have a wonderful afternoon." His tone told me he already had a suspect in mind.

***

"You're worried about tomorrow, aren't you?"

I closed my eyes, pressing myself back against the naked warmth of my lover, her cheek warm against mine, my arms over hers as they held me tight in bed. "They mentioned the press."

"And that scares you?"

"Hell, yeah." I turned back to her. "Doesn't it you?"

Sandy shrugged. "I'm not not thinking about it. I'd hate it if something made me leave the team. But I'm here with you, and that's not going to change, not on my end. I've just spent three nights openly in the bed of my partner, in full knowledge of her family. I love you, Melanie Pierson. I'll fight, if we have to. I'll fight for the team, for you, and I'll fight like hell for us, as long as you're fighting with me." Her lips pressed against my jaw. "You are my precious one, and I want you to be my future."

I turned in her arms, tears rolling down my face as my lips found hers. "I love you so much. Whatever it is, we'll get through it, right?"

She smiled at me. "Right." I let her pull me close, and I rested in her arms as sleep finally found me.

***

I stood on the porch and waved as Sandy drove down the driveway in the morning, heading back inside afterwards. My heart was beating faster than normal as the a.m. wore away, and it didn't make it much past ten before the other shoe dropped.

I saved my work on the short story I was reviewing and answered the phone. "Hi, Mom." I swallowed, praying for good news. Fat chance of that.

"You see, sweetheart? This is why I didn't want her playing that sport. Just look at what's happening."

My heart dropped from my throat down through my stomach, but I forced my voice to stay calm. "What's happening?"

"Haven't you read the paper, Melanie?" My dad still got The News & Observer, the largest printed newspaper in The Triangle, which he had for as long as I could remember.

"No, Mom, I don't get the paper."

There was silence for a moment. "Seriously, Melanie." Her tone of voice took me right back to childhood, dripping with the patient condescension of a long suffering parent. "It's that coach. Apparently not only is she a lesbian, but she's been molesting one of her players."

I closed my eyes. "Oh, bull, she has not."

My mother huffed. "I'm on my way over. We need to do damage control."

"Damage control? Mom, I'm working!" I'm not sure how much of my last statement my mother actually heard, as by the time I'd finished she'd disconnected. I closed my eyes, blowing out an exasperated breath. How many times was I going to have to go through this?

One thing had been clear from what Mom had said, she didn't know that Paige was involved in this whole thing. I'd very much like to keep it that way, but I'd never been able to keep anything from my mother. There was something about her presence that turned me back into a twelve-year-old child, desperate for her approval.

I set the phone down, seeing the sleeve of my robe out of the corner of my eye, which reminded me I was still in my pajamas. Admitting to my mother that I was bisexual and sleeping with my daughter's hockey coach was one thing, letting her berate me with her disappointment over my slovenly appearance was something else.

I ran upstairs, throwing on a skirt and blouse and pulling a brush through my hair, trying to make myself as presentable as possible in the twenty minutes before Mom got here. I was just putting in fake diamond studs in my ears when I heard her car pull up the drive.

I closed my eyes, steadying myself. I had no idea how much information I was going to give her, but at least Sandy wasn't planning on coming for lunch, so I wouldn't have that deadline hanging over me.

I made my way to the backdoor, where my mother was waiting. Well, I wouldn't say patiently, but at least she wasn't pounding on it like a crazy person. Not that I expected that, my mother was always calm and collected. But as she entered I could see her eyes flashing with determination. I knew that look. There was a dangerous problem to be solved, or an enemy to destroy. One or the other. My mother would have made an excellent Disney villain.

"Here." She pushed out the newspaper she was holding. I took it as she sat demurely in one of my dining chairs, crossing her legs at the ankles like a princess.

I'd expected a banner headline, but it wasn't. It was on the front page, though, at the top. 'Lost Valley H.S. Coach Accused of Inappropriate Relationship with Player pg. 3'

I opened the paper to the proper page, my eyes immediately falling on a rather unflattering picture of Coach Dalton. I tore through the story, reading as fast as I could. They didn't mention Paige by name. They did state that the player in question was not a minor, but they were still withholding her identity. Still, that only left a few girls on the team who it could be. And whoever had written the story used the word 'Lesbian' at least three times to describe Sandy: 'The Lesbian Field Hockey Coach,' 'The lesbian former Olympian', etc.

The story went on to say that the police had confirmed the matter was 'under investigation' and that Principal Harrison 'could not be immediately reached for comment'.

"You see? This is what happens when you let girls from good families play sports like this. It masculinises them, paints them with that brush regardless of anything else."

I didn't answer, reading through the article for the second time. I needed to call Sandy.

"I know this isn't your strong suit, Melanie, so I'm going to take care of the damage control." Her tone of voice made it clear that she didn't think I had any strong suits, but this particular area was completely outside my purview.

"Damage control?"

"Yes. You want Paige to be able to get into a top school? Let her get caught up in a scandal like this and they wouldn't touch her with a ten-foot pole. So this is what you are going to do."

I turned toward her, setting down the paper. "I don't think this needs any damage control, mom." I was planning on saying this didn't have anything to do with Paige, but the words died on my lips. I was such a crappy liar.

My mother ignored me. "First, you are going to pull Paige off that team, at a minimum until the coach is dismissed, but better for the rest of the season. Secondly, you will have Paige testify against the Coach if there are any disciplinary hearings. If there aren't then we will want to craft a statement to the press. It has to be on record that she is disgusted by the Coach's actions, something to that effect. She has to distance herself from this."

She stopped talking for a second to think, while my mind was whirling.

"Melanie, do you think Paige will know who the player in question is? She probably will, I think. If not, it's important we find out. The girl will be a pariah, and that has to be delicately maintained." She wore a mean little smile. "What did your favorite author say? 'Loss of virtue in a female is irretrievable.' We have to support her as a victim, while still acknowledging her ruin in society."

"Her ruin? If she's a victim?"

"From what I read, it's likely she was complicit in whatever happened. Which makes her, well, not the sort of young woman good society associates with."

My ears burned in anger. "So that's it, huh? We throw her away because she made a mistake? What if it were Paige? We just send her away to a convent for the rest of her life?" I regretted saying that as soon as it left my mouth, and I watched in horror as my mother's already icy face hardened even further.

"Was it Paige, Melanie?" she leaned forward in her chair, my blood running cold with fear. "Tell me you didn't allow your daughter to sully this family, that you didn't put your brother's campaign in jeopardy."

Her voice was frozen steel, and I started shaking inside. My voice was weak as I tried to answer. "Paige isn't sleeping with Coach Dalton. She never has."

Mother's expression didn't slip an inch. "That isn't what I asked, young lady." She picked up the paper I'd laid back on the table and leaned forward. "Is the girl they are speaking of Paige?" I couldn't answer, but my mother rightly read my expression. "My god, Melanie! What were you thinking?"