Perfect

I opened my closet door. Nothing looked appropriate for me to wear. I decided not to wear anything attention grabbing, so I opted for my favorite pair of jeans and work boots and a top buttoned up to the neck. We'd be stomping around the vineyard, and I didn't want to encourage him further. I skipped putting on any make-up.

I took my F-150, sans trailer, and pulled up to his house at precisely four. Much to my surprise Gretchen came out of the house to greet me. A golden retriever came bounding after her. She was wearing a shirt, tied together at the midriff to accentuate her ample breasts, a pair of tight fitting jeans, the legs tucked into hand tooled red cowboy boots, and her wispy blonde hair was pulled back in a pony tail. She had put on a bit of make-up. Her overall appearance was stunning. My mouth suddenly went dry again.

I rolled down the driver's side window. She put her hands on the open window frame so she was only a few feet from me. My body was already buzzing.

"Gretchen. Pleasant surprise. What's up? Where's Martin?"

"Martin's a bit under the weather. He said he's got a migraine."

A huge sense of relief washed over me. I hoped it wasn't obvious to her.

"I'm sorry to hear that. Should we reschedule?" I was praying not.

"Nonsense. I'll take you. I know the vineyard better than him anyway."

"You sure? You must have a lot to do to get ready for your trip." I was being polite. I was hoping that I wasn't talking her out of her offer.

"Yes, I'm sure. I wouldn't have made the offer otherwise."

Right. Straight to the point. I had to know that about her.

"Well ... great ... do you need a few minutes to get ready?"

She reached through the open window and put her hand on my shoulder. There was an instant connection, as if my energy was flowing through her arm. She rested her hand there a moment longer than she needed to.

"It's no trouble at all ... and no, I don't need any time. Do you mind if I hop in and we drive over together?"

"Not at all. Hop in."

She opened the passenger side door and climbed in. The retriever knew his job was done and trotted back to the house.

I turned my head so I was looking at her. I couldn't find any words, so we stared at each other for a moment.

"You look lovely Jamie," she said, breaking the silence.

Did I? I wasn't wearing anything special, and no make-up. I didn't know how to respond. She must have sensed my internal conflict, and maybe my shaky self-esteem when it came to my appearance.

She put her hand on my shoulder again, this time letting it rest there. The thought crossed my mind that she wanted her to kiss me.

"Really," she said. Her eyes were saying something to me. The way she was dressed, her body language, and Martin's headache ... it was all too convenient to be a coincidence. I took a deep breath and jumped into the deep end.

"Martin's not sick, is he?"

Her eyes flashed recognition. Recognition that I saw her true intention. It was the moment where the veneer of pretense was stripped away, and we touched on the core truth of our feelings.

"No ...," she confessed. "He ... he thought maybe you'd want to go with me instead of him."

I was stunned by her admission. Was I that obvious when I met her? That I was attracted to her? And did I already hurt Martin's feelings that profoundly?

"He said that to you?" I asked, wanting to know if it wasn't something else.

"Yes. He's a very perceptive man."

"What did he say to you?"

"He said he thought you were attracted to me, not to him." She let that sink in for a moment. Then she put me on the spot. "Is that true?"

So the tables were turned. I had obsessed for the last twenty-four hours about what I'd say to Martin. I was thoroughly unprepared for Gretchen's question.

"I think so ... I don't know ... I'm kind of confused," I admitted. "And I'm not a lesbian. I've never been with a woman before."

Gretchen put both of her hands on my shoulders. I couldn't take my eyes away from hers. I felt like the air had left the cabin of the truck and I had to struggle to draw a breath.

"It's just a label honey. You love who you love."

Then I put it back on her. "Are you ... are you attracted to me?" Her eyes were telling me yes.

She leaned over and hugged me tight to her. My head was on her shoulder. I closed my eyes. She wasn't wearing any perfume, but her natural fragrance was intoxicating. Stray hairs were tickling my cheek. Our breasts pressed against each other, and my nipples hardened.

She kissed me on the cheek, as if she was a teacher rewarding her pupil.

"That's a silly question. Why do you think I'm here?"

Her answer made me happy. My face registered elation and relief. I took a deep breath. She buckled her seatbelt. I did likewise.

"Is Martin going to be OK?"

"He'll be fine. He's a bit bruised, but he'll get over it."

"I'm glad. I really like him and he's got a good heart."

"He does ... now let's go," she said. "We want to catch the late afternoon sun."

* * *

It was difficult concentrating on the winding road up the mountain with Gretchen sitting next to me. I couldn't help stealing glances over at her. I'd never been infatuated with anyone, and I realized that the feeling overwhelms other natural desires ... like breathing ... or watching the road.

"Watch it!" she shouted at me. The back wheel of the truck slipped off the edge of the pavement and onto the soft shoulder.

I jerked the truck back on the road, a rush of adrenaline going through me. "Sorry," I said sheepishly. I wasn't practiced at controlling my emotions, especially ones that I hadn't been experienced before.

She knew I was looking at her. "Eyes on the road," she said, lightly admonishing me. Then her hand rested on my thigh, telling me that my misdirected attention was welcome nevertheless.

We passed areas burned in the 2017 fire. There were charred trees still standing. "So the fire didn't get to the vineyard," I said, changing the subject and trying to relieve the building tension.

"No. Came about a mile from it before the wind changed direction and took the fire over the mountain to Napa." Her hand was still on my thigh, and the attempt at small talk did nothing to extinguish my anxiety.

There was a widened shoulder in the road for slower moving cars. I turned into it and stopped the truck. I put it in park. There was a panoramic view of Sonoma Valley from the passenger side window. She turned her head away from me to admire the view. I released my seatbelt and leaned over the console so my face was inches from her. I pretended to look out the window at the view, but my eyes were really locked on her.

"Kiss me," I whispered into her ear. I couldn't take the tension. I wanted her and she knew it.

She turned her head towards me so we were face to face. "Now?" she asked innocently.

"Yes." I was as certain as I could be. Clarity was emerging from chaos.

She unbuckled her seat belt and cradled my head in her hands. She kissed me lightly on the lips.

"There. Is that better?"

Her kiss only inflamed my desire for her. She must have known that. She was teasing me. It was game that was new to me and I wanted to play.

"No," I answered truthfully.

Her eyes closed, as did mine, as our lips met. This time her kiss lingered, and I parted my lips, welcoming her tongue. They touched tentatively, then with great passion as the kiss erupted into a frenzy. Animal passion was quickly overtaking any notion of civility. I lost sense of where I was. It seemed like she was everywhere, nipping my neck, nibbling on my earlobe, then returning to my mouth. I didn't want it to end, but it did when she took a long breath.

"What about now?" she asked, her breathing ragged as well.

"Much better."

In truth, it was fantastic. The best kiss ever. If we continued I think we have ended up having sex in the bed of the truck.

"Good, because at this rate it's going to get dark before we reach the top of this mountain."

I drove the rest of the way with her hand resting on my thigh. I had a tingling feeling in my leg, and my desire ... no ... my lustful intentions for her ... seemed boundless.

* * *

The tour of the vineyard was even better with Gretchen. She had already designed the vineyard in her mind, so it was easy for her to paint the picture for me. We walked around for the better part of an hour, discussing the layout of the vineyard given the arc of the sun. As we were finishing the tour, the cool damp ocean breeze kicked up. She showed me a sheltered canyon within the vineyard that was at least five degrees warmer.

"Cabernet here. I'd plant pinot or chardonnay where you get the breeze," she instructed me. I'd already figured that out, but it was good for her to confirm my conclusion.

"So what do you think?" she asked, holding hands with me, us both looking at the setting sun.

"It's a dream. I want this ... bad."

She laughed. "Did you mean the vineyard ... or me?"

"Both," I answered immediately. "I want it all."

"Greedy little bitch, aren't you?"

My hand went to her hip, and then moved across her bare midriff, resting in the crevice under the swell of her breast. Even with a bra on, the slight sag of her breast added a moist heat, which emboldened me further.

"With you I am," I answered.

* * *

The return trip was mostly in silence, us both lost in our thoughts. The waning sunlight made patterns of light and dark on the curvy road, and as the truck slalomed down the mountain my mind wandered back to my late night conversation with Em.

My head was telling me this was madness. I was falling for a woman ... and not only that, but a woman who was going thousands of miles away from me in less than a week. What were my parents going to think? How would I tell them? Did I really want this? A struggle with my sexual identity, running concurrently with a long distance relationship?

But what was my heart telling me? My heart was telling me that this was right. As right as I've ever felt. I would never again meet a woman like Gretchen ... a woman with beauty, intellect, and undeniable sexiness. Em told me I should go with my heart, damn the consequences. With Gretchen sitting next to me, it made the choice easy. I would chose her, and deal with the consequences later.

We arrived at their ranch. I punched in the code and waited for the decorative gate to open.

"I guess this is goodbye, at least for now," I said, a deep sadness looming over me.

Gretchen grabbed my hand, perhaps feeling the same sense of quiet desperation. "Stay with me for a bit. A glass of wine?"

I drove the truck through the open passage and down the gravel road leading to her house, a small plume of dust billowing behind us.

"OK," I said, also wanting to forestall the end of the day.

I parked the truck next to the house and we walked down a pathway to a small pond flanked by a gazebo. She sat me there on one of the cushioned benches.

"Sit tight. I'll be back in a minute."

The last vestiges of sunlight reflected off the pond. My eyes were lost in the dark swirls of water raised by the wind and the grasses that were gently swaying in the cool breeze. Conflicting emotions of great joy and deep sadness overcame me. Tears started flowing as I contemplated our budding love and our fast approaching separation.

Gretchen returned with an open bottle of wine and two glasses. She sat on the bench next to me.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"I'm so happy to be with you. I didn't know I could find such joy being with someone else," I confessed.

"Is that it?" She knew there was more.

I paused for a moment to collect myself. "You're leaving next week. I can't stand the thought of it."

She held me, enveloping me in her arms like a warm blanket. "You're sweet to think that."

"Don't leave," I said, practically begging.

"I have to," she said, massaging the back of my neck.

"Please?"

"I can't. I know fate can be cruel, bringing us together, then pulling us apart, but I don't think there's another way."

She stopped the massage and poured two glasses of wine, handing one to me.

"To us," she said, holding her glass up.

I clinked my glass against hers. "To us."

I took a sip, tasting a well-aged deep, rich, red wine.

"It's delicious."

She showed me the label. It was an Australian Shiraz.

"It's the first vintage from our new vineyard."

Then she spoke as if she had an epiphany. "Come with me. Come with me to Australia. You can be my winemaker."

Now the shoe was on the other foot. I feared my head would win over my heart. It did.

"I can't. Dad isn't able to run the winery any more. Chas is interested in chasing the next great thing. He's not interested in the day to day operations. I'm it."

She must have suspected that would be my answer. "I know. But I wanted to let you know that you can always come out to visit ... or to stay."

"Promise?"

There was a smile and a twinkle in her eye, just like the first time we kissed. She kissed me lightly on the lips. I had no time to react, other than to close my eyes when our lips met, ever so briefly.

"There ... sealed with a kiss."

It was simple and perfect.

* * *

Breakfast the next morning was my first chance to see Mom and Dad since my visit with Gretchen. Mom was making pancakes and a plate of breakfast sausages was already on the table.

"Fake maple syrup's on the table," Mom said as she plated two pancakes for me.

There was an ongoing controversy in the family. I liked fake maple syrup, as did Em and Dad. Mom and Chas were real maple syrup fans, and thumbed their nose at us. I poured a generous amount of the fake stuff on my pancakes.

"Ummmm ...," said Em as she entered the kitchen, holding Lizzy's hand.

"Lizzy!" I exclaimed. I thought she was still at sleepover camp up north. "So how was camp?"

"Good Auntie Jamie. I made this for you."

She thrust a lanyard in front of me, the kind you make in arts and crafts class.

"It's beautiful Lizzy." I pulled my keyring out of my pocket. I attached the lanyard to it. "See? So now every time I pull out my keys I'll think about you."

Lizzy glowed.

"Pancakes for you my little princess," said Mom, putting a plate on the table.

Now Lizzy would be faced with the tough decision. "Real or fake, Lizzy?" asked Em.

Lizzy put her finger to her chin. "Fake please."

"Yesss!" I claimed victory. Now the family count was 4-2.

"I think I'm going to need Chas and his girlfriend for reinforcements to even this up," Mom complained to me. "This isn't a fair fight aligning my granddaughter against me."

"She's the face of the future, Mom. Get used to it," I said, sticking the needle in a bit deeper.

"So how'd the meeting with Martin go yesterday?" asked Dad, not knowing any of the details of what actually transpired. He was still hopeful there was something there between the two of us. I didn't think breakfast was the right time to broach my relationship with Gretchen.

"Fine, but Martin was under the weather so I did the tour with her sister Gretchen."

"Oh," he said, obviously disappointed. "Back in town? I thought I heard she was in Australia."

"That's next week."

"She's a looker ... but kind of a cold fish if you ask me."

Well, I didn't ask him. "She's nice," I offered, pushing back.

"That's not what I heard."

"You heard wrong," I said emphatically.

I'm sure Dad was a bit puzzled by my defense.

* * *

After breakfast I went up to my room to get ready for a day in the vineyard. The storm had wreaked havoc on the property, and I had to get out there to supervise the repairs. Tom had installed new sump pumps, which were running well. One less problem to worry about. My phone chimed with a text.

Gretchen: Have to go to Anderson Valley to wrap up a bit of business before I go. Going to stay the night at a B&B. Want to come?

Shit. I did, but I had a ton of stuff to do. I really couldn't spare the time. I went back down to the kitchen. Fortunately Dad was still there drinking coffee and picking at a pancake.

"Dad, can you have Manuel cover for me today?"

He put his fork down. "Sure Kitten. What's up?"

"Need to go up to Anderson Valley ... uh ... on business."

"What kind of business?"

I could see that Mom was washing the dishes, but was listening.

"Oh ... it's with Gretchen Striler. I thought I'd keep her company."

Mom wiped her hands on her apron and then came over to the table. "So you've made friends with Gretchen ... that's nice."

Mom made it sound like I was back in kindergarten and made a new friend.

"Yeah Mom. Gretchen and I are friends."

"That's good ...".

Before Mom could formulate the next question in the inquisition, Dad hit the soft spot.

"So when are you coming back?"

"Tomorrow." I braced myself.

"Tomorrow?" he repeated back. It was a "why the fuck are you leaving for an overnight trip right after a major storm?" statement. I'm sure he was also wondering why I'd be staying overnight with her. I wanted to be careful how I answered his implicit question.

"It's important." I waited for the "why?"

"Why?" he asked.

I was a grown woman. I didn't need to fear my parents. Actually I did fear my parents but I was going to have to level with them. The truth was going to come out eventually.

"I like her."

Dad wasn't going to let go. "You mean you like her, or that you like her?"

Oh God. Pinned at the breakfast table.

"I like her."

"Ohhh ... " said Dad.

There was an uncomfortable silence. It felt like hours. I watched their faces, trying to get a read on their reaction.

Mom took the lead, bless her heart. "I'm sure that if you like her then we will too ... right Dave?"

I watched Dad's eyes. His eyeballs rolled up for just a moment, but in the face of my statement and Mom's approval, his answer was preordained, whether he was there yet or not.

"Right Elizabeth."

Dad only called her Elizabeth when he was bowing to her greater authority. This was one of those times. I'm sure that in the background he was wondering how he missed that his daughter was gay. I wanted to tell him he wasn't missing anything. I didn't know myself until this week.

"Thanks for covering me Dad. I'll make it up to you."

"No you won't," he said, already coming to terms with it. "You just have fun. I'll take care of things here."

I loved my Mom and Dad even more.

* * *

I ran back to my room and picked up my phone.

Me: I'm in.

Gretchen: For real?

Me: Did you doubt me?

Gretchen: Did you want me to answer that?

Me: On second thought, no. When?

Gretchen: In about an hour?

Me: That works.

Gretchen: Great. I'll pick you up.

I put my phone down on the bed. I went to Em's room to share the news with her. I couldn't tell if my feet were touching the ground.

* * *

I had my overnight bag packed and was standing out front when a black 911 roared down the driveway. Gretchen jumped out to greet me. She was dressed up wearing an expensive looking cream colored silk blouse, black pants and black pumps with stiletto heels. Her hair was down, gentle waves in her shoulder length strawberry blonde hair, and wearing bright red lipstick. I looked like a homeless person in my ten dollar robin egg blue blouse from Target, faded jeans and sneakers.

I carried my bag over. She kissed me on the cheek.