That afternoon at 6 when I arrived home from the office I went to my mailbox as I do every day. Shoving the envelopes in my open pocketbook I walked back toward the apartment building with my key held out to let myself inside quickly. It's freezing out here I said to myself. Closing the front door brought much welcome relief from the biting cold of January.
While eating a Healthy Choice microwave dinner I opened the envelope that was addressed in fancy gold penmanship.
I read an invitation that I knew subconsciously would be coming to me sooner or later.
"You are invited to Helena, Indiana high school 25th reunion. It will be held at the Marmot Hotel." I looked carefully at the street address, and room name given.
This might be interesting I thought. There are a lot of people I would like to see again. There were a few boys whom I dated but they're probably married by now no doubt. There were some girls I would love to see again and see how they turned out.
The date was a month away. I took out the inner envelope that had been self addressed back to the reunion committee and quickly wrote in 1. There was no one special whom I would bring.
The last time I had a significant other I was in college. Madison and I had gone separate ways after my sophomore year. When she transferred to a different school we did not stay in touch. It was a long time before my heart mended.
Cheryl Thatch was something of a loner in high school. She was certainly not homely by any stretch but not a beauty queen either. She was a tall, thin redhead with hazel eyes and not quite full lips.
Cheryl and I were friendly toward each other in high school. We engaged in a lot of girl talk, and went out for cigarette breaks together. Outside of school we actually saw little of each other.
That Friday night in late February I came to the hall where the reunion was being held. Approaching the reception desk I took my name tag from the reunion committee. They greeted me.
"Stephanie Blake how are you?"
"I'm fine thank you. It's nice to see all of you people again."
The committee consisted of Edward Harrison, and Janet Lynn.
"So Ed," I began, " bring me up to date."
" I left my husband home and I came here."
It was not a secret to anyone that Edward was gay. One could see it in his mannerisms, and hear it in the tone of his voice.
"Are you a hair stylist?"
"As a matter of fact I am. Ronald is a cabinet maker."
"I didn't realize that gay marriage was legal in this state."
"It isn't hon, but we live together. We may as well be married."
During high school I had an inkling that girls would excite me sexually but I kept that side of me hidden. However short lived the romances, lovers had been boys. In short, my love life was normal for a teen girl.
By 10 I had met and chatted with everyone there, finished my meal, and had one alcoholic drink. Walking out from the function room, I sat in a cushioned chair and lit a cigarette. Cheryl came out.
I turned my eyes toward her and was unable to look away from her face. The attraction was mutual and strong. Her eyes met mine.
"I took a room for the night."
"Do you have a long drive home?"
"Yes I do," she answered.
Cheryl and I walked back into the function room like two old friends. Her personality seemed to not change since high school days. She still had the same perky sense of humor, and the same good natured demeanor.
At 11, ready to make love, Cheryl closed the door softly to room 210. She pulled me toward her tall, lean body. Our lips pressed together. Her hands caressed my back. Her lips pressed onto my neck. A second kiss followed then a third and a fourth. The soft buzz of my zipper going down excited me.
Pushed by her hand and mine, my dress fell to the floor at my feet. I stepped out of it.
Her lips brushed lightly against mine, but his time my mouth fell open. Cheryl's tongue went deep inside.
She eased me onto the bed pressing her body onto mine pushing off my bra cups. Her hand went up to my boob squeezing, and rubbing as her thumb brushed over the nipple. My nipples went erect. Down below I could feel her fingers push into my vagina and her thumb rubbing gently on my now swollen clitoris. My sex juices were spewing out soaking my panties.
As I slowly recovered from multiple orgasms my lover lay turned toward me caressing my belly with her finger tips. The time to chat heart to heart had come.
"I had a crush on you back in 11th grade. I wanted to go out with you one night."
"I didn't realize that I'm lesbian until my college days."
Tommy Reno, a jock who played hockey, was one of perhaps half a dozen boys I dated during high school days. It hurt a little when he and the others left but my heart always recovered quickly. I was senior. He turned out to be the last boy in my life.
Maddie was different. She had been my first real love, the first time I had ever felt emotion deeply but the affair now some 23 years behind me.
"During my sophomore year in college I had moved into a lesbian dormitory. Madison and I were sexual almost from day one. I thought we could stay in touch after that school year but that never happened."
That was the last time I would ever mention that former girlfriend. My lover listened attentively.
She had her own history.
"I got all my experiences in lesbian bars. They come, and they go. It's like high school. Nothing lasts very long."
That meant that her first sex happened not before her twenty first year.
Just like high school, I thought. Those girls have all the same pickup lines.
In the morning, refreshed from eight hours of sound sleep, Cheryl and I awoke about the same time.
Just before we parted at checkout time, I handed her a piece of paper from the note pad on the desk. She read my home address, phone and cell phone number and stuffed the paper into her pocketbook. Pulling out her favorite pen she proceeded to write. Reading it, I quickly realized that she did not live far from me.
There would be many more showers together.