“I know! It doesn’t matter which of us is using it. It’s nice.”
“But so is a real cock.”
“You know, I tried to buy one online, but—”
“What I mean is we may be lesbians, but that doesn’t mean we don’t enjoy fucking guys.”
“I know. We talked about that. Do you want me to go out and get a guy? And then tell you about it?”
“I was thinking we could go out together.”
“And bring some guy home?”
“Or two guys.”
“Oh, wow. I’m just thinking of the possibilities.”
“Uh-huh.”
“But Kimmie? What about afterward?”
“Afterward,” she said, “you and I’ll go home together, and talk about all the fun we just had. Incidentally, I don’t think we should bring them here. We’ll go to their place, so we can leave when we want to.”
“And so that this place is just for you and me.”
“Exactly.”
“But Kimmie, what I meant about afterward. If you’re with a guy—”
“Yeah?”
“Well, won’t he be on your list?”
She considered this. “I can’t be positive,” she said, “but I have the feeling I’m done with that list. I crossed off the last name, remember.”
“With the proxy marriage in Provo.”
“Right. Something changed that day, Ree. Something shifted. You know it was all about my daddy.”
“I know.”
“I kept fucking him and killing him, over and over. Not consciously, but let’s face it, that’s what I was doing. And I think he’s finally dead, you know? And I’m finally at peace with it. You know what else I think?”
“That you had to be done with all that in order for us to be together.”
“Yes! And we are, and I am.” She frowned. “At least that’s what I think. Ree? What do
Ree was silent for a moment. Then she said, “What I think is I’m picturing you on your back with your legs spread, and this guy’s on top of you, and while he’s pumping away at you, I’m doing him in the ass with a strap- on.”
“That’s what you’re thinking.”
“Yeah.”
“And if it’s two guys?”
“Oh, I didn’t even think of that. Where would the second guy fit in?”
“I suppose I could always blow him.”
“Sure,” Ree said. “That’d work.”
The Cascadilla Lounge was in downtown Seattle, tucked in between a pair of four-star hotels. The lighting was indirect and subdued, and a piano trio supplied soft jazz. The clientele ran to men in suits.
“Business travelers,” Ree said. “Some of them are here for the drinks and the music, but most of them are looking to get laid.”
“Just like us,” she said.
They found room at the bar, and got a thoughtful look from the barman who filled their order for two glasses of white wine. “He’s trying to figure out if we’re hookers,” Ree told her. “Like the redhead at the end of the bar. I’ve only been here two or three times, but she’s always here, and always on the same stool.”
“She’s cute.”
“You don’t want to—”
She shook her head. “The Blue-Plate Special tonight is dick,” she said. “Besides, you’re the only woman in my life.”
“I wonder if anybody’s gonna hit on us. Those guys before, Luke and Gordo—”
“They were assholes, Ree.”
“Yeah, I know. But they were ready to go, Kimmie.”
“Hot to trot.”
“You bet. By now we’d be switching partners for a second goround, and in another hour we’d be back home doing each other and talking about what jerks they were.”
“Instead of drinking wine we paid for ourselves and waiting for someone to make a move. Unless we’re the ones who make the first move. You see anybody you like?”
“There was a guy who was sort of cute. I don’t know where he went.”
“Those two have been giving us the eye. At the table to the right of the piano player.”
“We could give them the eye right back. Except — Kimmie, you know who they remind me of?”
“Luke and Gordo.”
“Uh-huh. Luke and Gordo, plus twenty pounds and fifteen or twenty years.”
“So let’s not give them the eye.”
“No, let’s not.”
“Ree, are we being too fussy? We’re not gonna marry these guys. We’re just gonna fuck their brains out.”
“If we could even find their brains.”
“We could go home.”
“I was just about to say that. But, you know, we just got here.”
“I know.”
“Not that we couldn’t have a perfectly good time by ourselves, but—”
“I know.”
She picked up her glass, held it to her lips without sipping from it. The pianist was playing something she liked, something she’d heard a million times, but she couldn’t identify it. She frowned, concentrating.
“Gloria!”
The male voice boomed in her ear. She turned and saw its source, a tall man in his early forties, wearing a dark suit with a chalk stripe. Whoever Gloria might be, her name had triggered something in her own memory. “
“Ah,
Who was he? And when had she ever called herself Gloria?
“Especially a face as beautiful as yours,” he went on. “I guess you don’t remember me.”
“There’s something—”
“What?”
“Familiar about you.” And there was. The voice, for one thing, deep and resonant. The jawline, the sculptured brow, the blue eyes. She tried to coax the memory out into the open, and her effort amused him enough to make him smile, and as she registered his smile, the door in her memory slammed shut.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “I can’t quite place you.”
“Don’t apologize, Gloria. We knew each other very briefly. Ran into each other in a bar in downtown Philly. I don’t even remember where it was, but—”
“Race Street.”
“Yeah, that sounds about right. By God, you
“But your smile is different.”
He grinned, once again showing her two rows of perfect teeth. “Miracles of modern dentistry,” he said, and tapped his upper incisors with his forefinger. “Chipped a tooth, did a real job on it. My guy capped it and the one next to it, and while he was at it he got rid of the gap between them. Up until then I never knew it bothered me, but afterward I had a lot more self-confidence. Started going to the gym, keeping a year-round tan. Taking better care of myself generally.”
“That’s great, Sid.”
