Grumpy Old Ladies

"What kind is that, exactly?" asked Magda, as she stepped back to stand beside Donna. She didn't touch her, but it was clear she positioned herself on the same front as her. "The kind where Donna can't be without underwear in the privacy of her own home, but others can walk around without a bra in public?"

The hostile silence was broken by a truck parking at the side of the road. As one, the HOA ladies turned to look and formed an asymmetric line for Mr. Buletti to walk through.

"Ah, Mister Buletti," Donna said, all smiles. "I see you're early again. Good thing I have your cookies all ready! Just a second!"

***

"It's not fair!"

Donna was still seething when it was time to go to bed. They had taken to spending every available night together, usually at Magda's, because Donna's house wasn't prepared to handle a small dog curious to get into everything he wasn't supposed to.

Magda set the book she'd been reading down in her lap, and looked over at her. "I know." Magda's tone of voice was annoyingly empathetic. Thankfully, she didn't seem to get tired of going through the same conversation. Donna thought she must have initiated it a dozen times throughout the day.

"I can't believe they'd gang up on me like that!"

"What makes it worse, that they did or that it used to be you?"

Donna blinked. "But... I was... oh God, I was that, wasn't I?"

Magda touched her arm gently. "It's not wrong to want to belong."

"But... gah, what a bunch of stupid cows!" Donna groaned and snuggled against Magda's side.

She kissed her forehead. "You want to... do something about it?"

"I wish," Donna said with genuine longing. "But I just got my period. Can you read to me, or something? I need to be distracted or I'm just gonna keep stewing."

"Sure, okay," Magda said and picked up her book again. "Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there was a... ultimate go-to guide on managing different personality types in work environments."

Donna groaned and Magda laughed.

"Sorry, but that is what I'm reading!"

"Okay okay," Donna mumbled and settled closer against her. "You know what, just... please continue. I'll be quiet."

She focused on Magda's voice rather than what she was reading. Magda's voice, and how it felt to cuddle close to her, and that was enough to help with anything.

***

Donna was in her kitchen a few days later, working on a blueberry pie because she knew it was Magda's favorite, when there was a knock on her door. She frowned, because it was the middle of the day, and was surprised to see Regina and Bethany standing on her porch looking more overtly pissed off than anyone she'd ever seen.

"Um, hi," she said, recoiling from the intensity of their stares.

Regina smiled, tightly, but it was Bethany who spoke. "We saw your cookies."

Donna blinked, and little by little her back started getting straighter. "Okay," she said slowly, dragging out the word.

"What the hell?"

"Yeah," Bethany added, aggressively, "what the hell, Donna?"

Donna narrowed her eyes, hands turning to fists at her sides. "Yes? What about them?"

"You know what," Bethany continued, practically hissing. "You had no right to turn our goodwill effort into a platform for your agenda."

"And what agenda is that?" Donna asked, taking a half step forward and squaring off very directly against the much smaller Bethany.

"Donna," Regina said, and Donna had to stop herself from whipping around from the faux-saccharine tone, "you know, as well as we do, that there are strict rules about what flags we allow."

Donna's eyes just about bulged out of her head. "That rule is about flags being posted visibly, outside, in the yard, and the only reason we have that is because that old sonuvabitch Abernathy kept trying to hang up his Confederate flag!"

"Regardless," Regina said, shrugging blandly, "it's on the books."

"Who complained?"

"They didn't have to," Regina fired back. "Donna, you can't be going around making us look bad like this."

"Making you look bad?" she roared. "They're Pride flags! It's June!"

Both women repositioned themselves, trying desperately to look like they weren't doing it because Donna had intimidated them and that they had both simply decided to adjust their stances to be more defensive. "It doesn't matter. They're gone now."

This set Donna back on her heels. "The contractors ate them all? Or..."

"They're gone," Bethany said, through clenched teeth. "We dropped off some muffins. Store bought, because it was short notice, and got rid of them."

"You threw out..." Donna's stomach sank. "That was two hundred cookies. They couldn't have gone through more than, what, half? In a couple days?"

Regina cleared her throat. "We bought everything they had, but the muffins will probably only last through Thursday. Mr. Buletti hired a few more guys to stay on schedule. Are you good to be ready with something for them on Friday? Don't forget, you're on next week as well."

Donna closed her eyes, counted to five, and nodded. "I'll... make them some cupcakes for Friday." Then, in a softer voice, she added, "I have a recipe I wanted to try."

"And it won't be any kind of preachy, political grandstanding?" Bethany asked.

Donna just glared at her.

"I'm glad we were able to settle this," Regina said. She turned, and Bethany went with her, and Donna had to work very hard to close her front door and not slam it.

Donna turned and stalked back into the kitchen. She wanted to take a walk to cool off, but she knew she didn't have much longer before she needed to pull the pie out of the oven, and not much longer after that before the meatloaf in the crockpot needed to be turned down to low. Instead she picked up her phone, fired off an angry text to Magda, and set it back down on the counter. If years of being with Ollie had taught her anything, it was that when someone was at work, they couldn't always—

The phone rattled and buzzed, seconds later, wiggling its way across the surface of the island. Donna picked up the phone skeptically.

"What did they say?" Magda asked, faster than Donna could even get the phone up to her ear.

Donna had to stare into the yard for a moment. She hadn't really paid attention to what she was typing when she'd sent the text, she was so mad, and couldn't remember what she'd already explained. "I... um... Aren't you busy?"

"I can make time," Magda said. "For an emergency? For you? I can make time."

For some reason, this made Donna start to cry, and once she started it was hard to stop.

***

Later that night, Donna was curled up in Magda's bed, laying on her side and running her nails through Peanut's fur, while Magda, behind her, read from a book and scratched Donna's back lightly.

"—from the waters of the river..." she said, pausing as she flipped the page, " that—oh. This is the last page?"

"Mmm-hmmm," Donna said. Peanut got up, turned in place, and laid back down again, and this time Donna used just the one fingernail to scratch under his jaw. "Good boy."

"Wow." Pages flipping behind her. "This glossary is pretty long."

"She doesn't always write fantasy," Donna said softly, "but when she does, she prefers glossaries," pronouncing it with the same cadence as Dos Equis. Glo-se-REES.

Magda snorted, and said, "The most interesting writer in the world. Ahhhh, what do you want me to read after this? I thought I had like fifteen pages left, but it's all pronunciations and technical stuff. There's only a couple paragraphs left."

Donna turned, and looked back over her shoulder. "This is gonna sound silly, but... would you start it over again?"

"The same book?"

"Yes, please." Donna nodded, and turned back toward where Peanut was pawing at her for attention. "I'm here, I'm here."

Magda chuckled. "He's got you wrapped around his little finger, doesn't he?" Then she shuffled the book around in her hand, and said, "Years Are Short."

"It's part of a little series. There's another book that goes with it called Days are Long. They're very different books. More... spiritually and thematically connected than anything else."

"Is it not good?"

Donna snickered. "Everything she writes is good. Years are Short, though, is... special."

"Is this your favorite book?"

Donna nodded, and then looked back over her shoulder and nodded again for emphasis.

Magda nodded in response, and then opened the book back up to the very end. "Alright. Let me finish this, get a glass of water, and then I'll start it over."

"Thank you," Donna said, softly.

The taller woman cleared her throat. "Okay... from the waters of the river that, many miles upstream, had kept her village alive. Kept her people alive. She returned to it, as she returned to them."

"I love that part," Donna said. "It all comes full circle."

"But wait, did she go back?" Magda flipped a few pages. "Is that what that means? I thought she was dying."

"She was, yeah," Donna said, "but she was dying at the beginning. You haven't—"

"Spoiler alert," Magda said, frustratedly.

"You can't say spoiler alert for stuff at the beginning of a story!"

"I haven't read the beginning part! I've only read the last couple chapters!"

Peanut pawed at her impatiently, and Donna cooed at him as she scratched around and behind his ears. "Well," she said, as she again tickled the very edge of the underside of Peanut's chin, "if you keep..." Then she stopped and sat up. "Well, wait. No. I don't want you to just read to me every night. I mean, I do, but... Can I read something for you tomorrow?"

Magda frowned at the book, and then slid her thumb inside the cover to mark the page she'd just found. She looked genuinely surprised. "Um... Yeah. Let me, um... I'll think of something."

"Okay!" Donna said, excitedly.

"For tomorrow. I'll come up with something."

"Not a management guide to personalities, though."

Magda used the book to thwack Donna's thigh through the comforter. "You'll read it, and you'll like it."

Donna rolled onto her side, and was surprised to find that she was a little sad that Peanut had left her side of the bed for the greener valley between hers and Magda's feet. It was even more surprising, when she thought about it, because she had harbored such anger toward the tiny animal, all of it misplaced anger she'd held toward Magda, and as her feelings toward Magda had shifted so too had her affection toward Peanut.

Her girlfriend wiggled back into place, a full-body, back-and-forth shuffle under the covers that Donna thought was absolutely adorable, and cleared her throat. "Avina was dying. Fuck me running, it's the first sentence?"

Donna snickered, said, "Less complaining, more reading," and got thwacked by the book again.

"Avina was dying," Magda said, starting over. "She knew this. The asking price, the blood price, of three arrows was more than she could afford, but neither could she roll over and die no matter how much she wanted to. If she did that, and the voices in her head were reminding her enthusiastically what a release that would be from the pain, she would be leaving it to someone else to settle her affairs.

"Daya, she whispered. The woman had practically gotten Avina into this mess in the first place but it was also her face that Avina pictured as she passed out, and Avina had made her a promise.

"Avina never broke her promises."

***

Donna laughed, panting, and ran a hand through her sweat-matted hair. Beside her, head down near the other side of the bed, Magda was flat out. Not asleep, per se, but eyes closed and breathing slowly and evenly. Donna tried to let her hand run over Magda's thigh, and got swatted for her curiosity.

"Sleeping," Magda said, sleepily.

Donna impishly kissed the top of Magda's foot, and that finally got the reaction she wanted: throaty purring.

"Still sleeping," Magda said, but neither did she pull away.

"You only came twice," Donna said, planting a row of kisses along the top of the arch toward the ankle. Magda stretched, long limbs reaching seeming absurd lengths, and Donna tried to sneak hands in around her thighs again.

Magda made a sound that was both mad and frustrated and giggling as she swatted Donna's hand multiple times, like she was trying to put out a tiny and very silly fire.

"Oh fine." Donna yawned and stretched, still not fully awake herself either despite having spent an unknowable amount of time between Magda's thighs first thing in the morning; it might have been ten minutes and it might have been an hour, but it was time well spent no matter what. "I'm gonna go make a pot."

"But what will you drink?" Magda murmured, softly, though her wide grin betrayed her very good portrayal of a beautiful woman sleeping.

Donna sat up, and smiled. Magda had her arms up above her head, and with her long body all stretched her breasts almost disappeared. Not completely, with just a hint of swell near her armpits, but her nipples sat magnificently on her chest. Brown and round and perfect. Donna couldn't help herself, as she scooted off the bed, and planted her lips around the left areola.

Immediately, Magda's fingers were in her hair, gripping and pulling her down, but Donna got such a delightful jolt from backing off just as Magda was giving in again.

"See you downstairs," she said, as she pulled a bathrobe off the hook on the door on her way out.

"Teeeeeeease," came the cry, as Donna bounced down the hallway.

It being June, with the daylight seeming to last forever, the sun was already very high despite the early hour. Donna leaned against the kitchen counter and stared out across Magda's back yard. Magda and Leo had gotten a pool very soon after moving in, a pool that Ollie had taken to tending to and maintaining so that all their kids could use it, and with both of them gone the pool had remained closed for the entire previous year. As near as she could tell, Magda had never loved the pool. The two of them had used her hot tub more times in the past months than she could ever remember Magda using the pool.

The rest of her yard was neat and tidy, but the heavy tarp over the pool, held in place by cinder blocks, made her heart hurt. It was one of a dozen reminders, when she wasn't actively trying not to look at them, that time marches on. Things change. People grow, and move, and priorities shift. Once upon a time, that pool had been the most important thing in their kids' lives. They couldn't have imagined going an entire summer day without spending hours in it.

Footsteps on the carpeted stairs behind her stirred Donna from her melancholy musings, and she gave a frustrated cry when she turned around.

"What?" Magda said, smiling coyly and pretending to be oblivious to the fact that her bathrobe was untied and unclosed. It barely covered her nipples, but it exposed the rounded inner swell of her breasts, the delicate curve of her smooth tummy, and her gorgeous pussy. Magda had labia that peeked out, and the slim gap at the top of her thighs highlighted the darker color of her inner lips. Made them pop, visually. Before their trip, on the occasions when Donna had the opportunity to see Magda naked, she'd had a hard time not staring at Magda's pussy.

She didn't have to hide her fascination anymore.

When Magda moved, the robe flowed open even more, leaving nothing to the imagination. Donna rolled her eyes, but she also watched closely as Magda moved around the kitchen and peeked into the still-brewing carafe.

"Not done yet?"

"No," Donna said. "Of course it isn't done. It's been, like, four m..." She trailed off when Magda smiled, even though it was a very subtle smile.

"What shall we do with our time, then?"

"We could've just stayed in bed!" Donna said, half-exasperated and half-excited. "We didn't have to get up!"

"But," Magda said, smiling deviously, "if we hadn't gotten up, then I couldn't have gotten this."

She started to pull something out of her pocket, but Donna made a move that surprised even her. Magda was backed against the counter, and had nowhere to go when Donna stepped closer to her and snatched something small and hard from the taller woman's hand. She knew it by feel, of course—Magda's bullet vibrator was a frequent contributor to their orgasms—and turned it on with a flick of her thumb. Another step, even closer, and Magda's eyes went wide. Donna brought her open palm flush against the taller woman's pussy, with the tiny pill-shaped toy tucked into her palm.

"Oh fuck," Magda cried, reaching back with both hands to brace herself. "I did... I-I did not—"

Donna reached up, laid a single finger over Magda's lips, and made a soft shhhh sound. The taller woman nodded enthusiastically, and bit her lip.

Magda had a lip that was perfect for biting. Not everyone could pull it off that kind of thoughtful sensuality, but it came so naturally to her.

With her palm doing all the work of holding the vibrator in place at the apex of Magda's cleft, she worked her middle finger lower and deeper until she was pressing, ever so gently, at the opening to Magda's innermost temple. She pushed but did not enter, letting the muscle relax enough to receive her. With her other hand, she pushed aside the robe and latched onto Magda's nipple. Having gone through breastfeeding four times, she'd never thought she'd be able to look at a nipple, even her own, as a sexualized object ever again, but Magda's nipples were so tantalizing, and reactive, and got so hard under her tongue, that it was hard not to fall in love with touching them.

Nevermind how her own body reacted to Magda.

She kept her fingertip in place, pushing very slightly, and worked her palm in slow circles. The bullet vibrator slowly moved around under her palm, and she delighted in the way Magda twitched and jerked whenever the vibration pattern reached peak intensity. She knew from experience that it could pack quite a punch, and she was pretty sure that Magda's comparatively large clit was even more sensitive than hers.

Like earlier, on the bed, Magda reached for the back of her head, to hold her in place while she suckled, and this time Donna stayed. There was something so intimate about the way they cradled each other, and held each other close. When they'd been simultaneously going down on each other earlier, each one of them had very carefully arched a leg up and over. They always did. Whenever they started touching each other, they always found little ways to stay connected. To keep skin touching skin.

Crossed ankles. Fingers in hair. Scratch marks across shoulder blades.

Magda's back arched sharply, a sure sign of things happening quickly, and Donna moved her hand. The little pill vibrator fell, bouncing off of her foot and leaving a few wet drops there before skittering across the linoleum. Freed of its job of holding the vibrator in place, Donna was able to bring her fingertips, plural, to bear on Magda's beautiful clit.

Donna had never seen such a beautiful clit. To tell the truth, before she started watching Magda's porn, she'd never seen a clit. Not even her own. Hers was nestled in among the folds of her labia, never to peek or expose itself. Shy. Sensitive. Not like Magda's at all.

The taller woman's head rolled back into her shoulders, and she let loose a series of short, whining moans in time with her halting breath and the sharp contractions tearing through her. Donna kept her fingers in place, working them over and around and under, but her lips moved to kiss a line straight up the center of Magda's chest. Right up to the collarbone, and there she stopped to suckle again.

On the one hand, Magda always writhed very intensely when Donna paid lip service to her neck and shoulders. On the other hand, the other woman was so tall that sometimes, it was all she could reach. She had to wait until Magda was done writhing and groaning, spiraling back down to Earth from the dizzying high of her third orgasm of the morning. When she did come down, and when she finally kissed Donna again, it hit her that neither she nor Magda had washed their faces since going down on each other for so long.