crotch, and she took a robe from her clothes closet. It was late for modesty, but no matter. She’d been undressed all day and she felt like putting something on, even a dressing gown. She tied the sash around her waist and looked toward the bed. Lou and Paul were both sitting there, and she could see the curiosity on their faces. The big moment, she thought. How would Joan Crawford play it? Caron cleared her throat, as if she meant to speak, and both men looked up expectantly, but she remained silent.
“Paul,” she said. “Would you get the divorce papers out of your briefcase?”
Did Lou’s face drop a little? Did he lose just a hair of that infuriating smugness? Did his moustache droop ever so slightly? That moustache! No matter how good it felt on her clit, she hated moustaches.
Paul came to her, holding the papers. She took them, looked at each page, pensive, of face. “Mmm,” Caron said, nibbling her lip.
And then she tore the papers up, one by one, tossing the shreds onto the floor. “I’m sorry, Paul,” she said. “I’m very sorry.”
Telling Sheila would be the hard part. Sheila hated Lou Archer and Caron doubted she could ever make her sister understand that it really was best for them to start over again as man and wife. I’m not even sure I understand, she reminded herself. But, God, the way he makes me feel when we’re fucking! There’s no romantic nonsense about it. We’re a pair of animals and we interact beautifully. I think it will work, this time. But if it doesn’t, I don’t think he can ever hurt me again.
Paul had dressed and gone, some time ago. Lou had taken off in his VW, back to the mainland to pick up a case of champagne. “If you think you got it in the ass today,” he told her at the door, “wait till tonight, after the party.”
Melissa. Caron wasn’t sure what they’d do about the girl. Lou had said she meant nothing to him, she was just a piece of ass he’d brought along for the ride. She could imagine him fucking the girl, and it made her a little jealous. He’s not going to remember Melissa very long, Caron promised herself I’m going to screw that girl right out of what’s left of his hair. That big bald spot was kind of cute. Maybe she’d paint it while he was asleep tonight. Or call in a tattoo artist and have him decorated with a butterfly. I must be crazy, Caron told herself as she walked up the dunes. “I must really be crazy,” she added aloud, for the benefit of a passing seagull.
Where in the hell was Melissa? She hadn’t seen the girl all day. Lou had said a seashell was enough to occupy her itsy-bitsy mind for a couple of weeks, though. Maybe she was painting her toenails somewhere and contemplating the meaning of life and the chemical structure of nail polish remover. Carol really didn’t give a fuck.
She came out of some trees and stared across the intervening dip at Sheila’s favorite painting spot, on the bluff overlooking the east cove. “My God,” she said, stopping short.
She’d come to find Sheila, to break the news to her, but someone else had found Sheila first. Carol couldn’t believe what she was seeing, over there on the bluff. Was she suffering from some kind of post coital madness? Or was that Sheila—and Melissa?
Melissa was naked, her body golden in the afternoon sunlight. Her blonde hair shimmered where it fell down her back and shoulders, and her tits were every bit as impressive as they’d looked inside that tight t-shirt yesterday. And Sheila was nursing on those big-nippled tits as if she were a baby and Melissa some kind of wet nurse. Melissa stroked Sheila’s face, reached down now and then, into Sheila’s unbuttoned blouse, caressing one of Sheila’s smaller breasts. Even here, forty feet away, Caron could hear them moaning and purring. If that wasn’t sexual, what was it?
Caron stepped back, leaned against a handy tree for support. Her tummy was full of butterflies. She still couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Things Lou had said kept floating through her mind. “Melissa’s made at least one conquest… Melissa’s as queer as a six-dollar bill. She’ll go down on anything.” Caron called out her sister’s name and the two girls came apart in a hurry, both of them staring across the little divide. Sheila sighed heavily and closed the front of her unbuttoned shirt. Melissa reached lazily for her towel, but she didn’t put it on. She draped it over one shoulder, tossed back her long golden hair, then slipped her arm around Sheila’s waist, and both of them sat back while Caron hurried to their vicinity.
“Hi,” Melissa said, bouncily, cutely. Her tits bounced too, and as Caron got close she could see that Sheila’s drool was foamy and bubbly on the stiff pink nipples. “How’s every little thing with you?” she added, squeezing Sheila’s shoulder. “Pretty good, if your face is any indication.”
“Sheila,” Caron said. Her sister got up slowly, buttoning her shirt. “We have to talk, kid.” They walked down the other side of the hill together, Caron shivering despite the summer heat. Had she really seen that? Sheila sucking Melissa’s tits? And what did it mean? She looked back over her shoulder. Melissa was picking up something, tossing it over the edge of the bluff, into the water far below. Caron couldn’t be sure, but it looked like a painting that had been slashed to pieces. Melissa was still naked, towel hanging over her shoulder, and her ass was twitchy and provocative. She had a glorious all-over tan, and her body moved with patented allure.
“Sheila…”
“Caron…”
They’d both spoken at the same time. Sheila gulped. Her face was red and she was obviously struggling for composure. “I might as well tell you now,” she said. “If you didn’t guess, I know you saw us, and I know you must be wondering. You’ve been worried about me for a long time, afraid I’d never meet Mr. Right, huh? Well, I haven’t been looking for Mr. Right, Caron. You might say I’ve been looking for Ms. Right. Caron, I’m a lesbian. I’ve been one since I was sixteen, and I don’t intend to be anything else. I’m not ashamed of it. The only reason I never told you was because I didn’t think you’d understand. Well, it’s too late to cover it up now. I’m in love with Melissa and I think she’s sort of in love with me. She’s coming back to Darien with me. I guess we’ll go tomorrow. I know you’d be uncomfortable having us around, especially after you get rid of Lou, so…”
Caron sighed heavily. “You think you’ve got problems of explanation?” she asked, cupping Sheila’s chin. Her eyes were kind and as understanding as she could make them. “Lou isn’t leaving. We’ve—we’ve decided to reconcile, to give it one more try. My God, Sheila, how could you be a les… a les… I can’t even say it! How could you have been that way all these years?”
“I have been, and I am, and I will continue to be,” she replied. “It’s me, Caron, it’s the way I am. I don’t want to change. Wait a minute. Did you just tell me that you and Lou, that you and that slimy son of a bitch…”
“He’s not so slimy if you give him half a chance. Bear with me, huh, kid? I had a choice to make, and I made it, and I hope it’s the right one. But as for you—you’re my sister, you can’t be gay. You’re just a little mistaken. But for the love of shit, it you have to have a girlfriend, can’t you do better than Melissa, of all people? She has the I.Q. of a Chihuahua! She worked in a massage parlor! She made porno movies! She is trashy and cheap and she’s the sluttiest thing I have seen on two legs.”
Sheila sighed. “I know all that. But I love sluts! And who are you to be talking about bad choices? Oh, Caron,” and she embraced her sister. “Don’t be so tight,” she added. “I’m not going to rape you, for Chrissake! You’re not a slut, and that means you’re not my type! See? I can kiss you without sticking my tongue down your throat. Now, if you were about a 38-D around the chest, and if you swung your hips like a truck stop waitress, and if you snapped chewing gum all the time—well, you wouldn’t be so safe. Oh, Caron, did you let him screw you? Is that what changed your mind? Melissa told me he was going to try to get you into bed, but I thought it would never work. Did he? And that’s what made you decide…”
Caron nodded, a little sadly. Sheila hugged her. “He told me,” Caron said, “not in so many words, but plain enough I could have read him if I’d been a bit smarter, that you had your eye on Melissa, too. What are we getting ourselves into, Sheila? You and me? These people come out of nowhere, plant themselves on our doorstep, and the next thing you know they’ve got us both in the sack. Are we that crazy, the two of us? Do we think with our cunts?”
Sheila giggled. It was a pretty flutelike sound, and Caron couldn’t help giggling too. “I guess so,” Sheila said. “After all, we’re women. And when it gets right down, what can we trust, except our cunt and our hearts? If it doesn’t work, we can always cry on each other’s shoulders. You brace me and I’ll brace you. Fair enough, Caron?” And she offered her sister a hand to shake.
“Fair enough,” Caron agreed. They shook, but they didn’t unclasp their hands. I wonder what it would be like, Caron thought. I know how it is with a man, but what about with a woman? Is it really different? Different enough to commit your whole life to? Sheila thinks so, obviously, and I can’t understand her reasoning, any more than she can understand why I’m so ready to give Lou Archer another chance. We’re crazy, both of us. But I don’t care!
Holding hands, they went back up the hill to Melissa. The blonde girl was still naked, her shaven pubes a
