After washing each other whilewe talk, we dry off and cuddle in bed. My mind wants to make loveto her but my body can’t. I’m too exhausted. I spoon her tightlyand we drift off to sleep.
In the morning, I call my bossand tell him I’ll be at work next week. Annie is up early and inthe vegetable garden, weeding. I tinker around the house fixing theodd in-need-of-repair thing; tightening the faucet, securingmouldings that have come loose on the wall, and applying sealantaround the tub. Just before noon, Annie comes in and washes thesoil off her hands. “I thought we’d take some lunch to the beachand have a little picnic.”
I help her make sandwiches andthen I fill the thermos with tea and slide on a pair of thongs. Thebeach in front of the cottage is pretty but rocky, perfect for ourdock and boat, but not so comfortable to sit and have a picnicon.
About ten minutes down the beachis a sandbar. The warm sun brings flocks of gulls to the shorelineto feed on small fish and other marine treats. We spread out oursmall blanket. Annie sits in front of me and I wrap my arms aroundher as we sit quietly, looking out over the glimmering water.
Just down the beach from us arepicnic tables on patches of grass. A man and women are attemptingto eat while they bark orders at their two children, who areclimbing off and on the benches. I hope they stay up there anddon’t bring all their noise and chaos down here.
No sooner do I think this then Isee the kids grab shovels and buckets and head our way. So much foran intimate lunch.
White and grey wings spread andtake flight as the children run toward the gulls. Our focus on thesea and wildlife is soon lost and we’re watching the feral kidsfling wet sand at each other. Their parents are yelling at them toplay nice, and one of the boys picks up a rock then hurls it at aseagull, narrowly missing it.
“Look at those yard monkeys,” Isay.
“Jade, be nice,” Annie says,laughing.
“What? It’s true. Those two area great argument for birth control.”
“Their parents might hearyou.”
“I’m not worried. It’s not likethey aren’t thinking the same thing.”
She turns and gives me a lookbefore pushing me backwards and planting a firm kiss. “You have tostop letting things bother you so much.”
She’s right. I’m way too porous.I get annoyed too easily.
I kiss her and pull hercloser.
A warm breeze rolls over ourbodies like a blanket. We are kissing passionately, lost in oneanother, until…a high-pitched voice extinguishes our heated momentlike icy water.
“Are you necking?” the boysays.
“No, she is choking on her gumand I’m helping her.”
“Well, where is it then?” heretorts, his brother coming fast to join the unwelcomedintrusion.
“It’s…she swallowed it.”
“You shouldn’t swallow gum,lady,” he says to Annie.
The eldest of the two boysreaches us and stares. “Are you two lesbians?”
Oh great.
“Leave those people alone,”their mother calls from down the beach.
“Mom,” he yells. “We found somelesbians.”
Annie and I glance at eachother, speechless.
“No, they’re not,” says theyounger one. “This lady was choking on her gum and this one washelping her get it out.”
“No. I’ve seen a lesbian beforeand they are definitely lesbians.”
“This kid is an asshole,” I say,out of the corner of my mouth.
“Oh good,” Annie whispers, “herecome the parents. Do you think we should go?”
“Hell, no. We’re not goinganywhere.”
A woman about forty walks up tous. She has on white capris and a blue shirt buttoned up to theneck. Definitely upper middle class. “I’m sorry if my boys arebothering you,” she says, putting a hand on the younger boy’s head.“They were stuck in the car all day. They have a lot of pent upenergy.”
How does that account for theirlack of respect? I want to say.
Then, her youngest boy informsher of the gum incident. Her apologetic look turns to disgust andshe ushers her children back down the beach.
“Have a nice day,” Annie callsafter them.
“That poor woman,” I say.“Terrified that her kids are going to be infected by our gaybugs.”
“Who cares,” Annie says.“They’re the ones with closed minds. You should feel sorry forthem.”
There she goes again. Compassionbefore resentment. Direct result of hippy parents. I wrap my armaround her waist and pull her down on the blanket. “You know who Ireally feel sorry for?”
“Who?” she asks, laughing.
“You.”
“Why?”
“Well, being unsuccessful atgetting your gum, I’m worried you still may choke. Maybe I shouldtry again?”
“No, no. I think we’ve causedenough damage to our spectators.”
“They are already damaged,” Isay, kissing her neck.
Annie squirms off the blanketand runs down to the water. “Come on.”
We spend the next couple ofhours finding cool shells and looking for little crabs to hold.It’s only on our walk back to the cottage that Denny enters mymind.
“Are you okay, Jade?”
“Great. Why?”
“You got really quiet all of asudden.” We walk in the door and she starts putting the picnicmaterials away.
“Nah, I’m good.” I sit on thecouch. “Was just thinking about how much I love every minute withyou.”
“Good answer,” she says, notbelieving my excuse.
I don’t usually lie to her, butI don’t want to tell her that I’m worried about Denny. He’s onlymet Annie once, when Dad and he came over to excavate on theproperty. While they were walking along the property, she madelemonade and offered it to them. My father drank it, only becauseit was a hot day, but Denny looked right at her and said, “Dykejuice? No thanks.”
With all the therapy he’s hadfor his mental problems, you’d think they would’ve taught him to beless of a prick. Then again, it’s not really Annie he hates, it’sme. Denny emulated everything my father felt and did. If Dad hatedgay people, Denny did too. But, Denny’s disgust for me went farbeyond my father’s.
Denny hated that I didn’t fit into the status quo of our overprivileged, snobby little West Vancommunity. In school
