The Day After Part 3

The Day After

Journs

For all previous disclaimers, please go to Part One: http://www.ausxip.com/fanfic9/thedayafter1.html

Due to the inordinate amount of time between updates (and I can’t even begin to apologize or provide a reasonable excuse for the delay since posting Part Two), it’s advisable to at least re-read Part Two before continuing with this conclusion: http://www.ausxip.com/fanfic11/thedayafter2.html

For those who have asked what else I’ve written in the fan fiction genre, there is only RESA, which can be found here on Mary D’s supreme site: http://ausxip.com/fanfiction/r/resa.html

I just want to use this final opportunity to thank the many readers who have taken the time to write to me, many wondering if I was ever going to finish this story! (I promised I would and, at long last, I have). Your feedback has been a wonderful boon and I greatly appreciate your kind words. Thank you to everyone!

PART THREE

In hindsight, Resa was inordinately pleased with her decision to wear the black dress. It had been a spontaneous choice, one that she couldn’t possibly explain, even to herself, but if the looks she was receiving were any indication, it was the perfect selection.

“My wardrobe is flannel free,” she continued as she stepped further into the room. “And Birkenstocks cost far more than I’m willing to pay for shoes, no matter how comfortable they may be so I don’t have any of those, either. But I do love a good pair of Levis…” She smiled. “…and I’m a big fan of T-shirts.” And stopped a few feet away from the trio, cocking her head to one side in a simple, friendly gesture. “Hello. You must be Jennifer’s parents. I’m Resa. It’s nice to meet you.”

Silence greeted her, deep and heavy with an implication that she was far too astute to misinterpret. Inwardly she sighed.

Resa had had her fair share of hostile greetings, what with the life she’d led. And she had always succeeded in surviving each instance with admirable aplomb, as she knew she would this one as well. Yet of the many antagonistic encounters she had faced in her young and turbulent life none had made her feel quite as uniquely disappointed as did the one before her now.

On the drive over to Jennifer’s apartment she had managed (buoyed by an unusually strong sense of hope brought about in no small part by Tarquin’s letter) to consider the possibility (slight though it may be) that Jennifer’s parents would react to their daughter’s news not as she had envisioned, with negativity and umbrage, but rather with grace and dignity. With love and acceptance. Simply because she was their child, whom they loved. Simply because it was the right and just thing to do.

It was clear such hope had been nothing more than wishful thinking.

Her eyes swept over the Logans who watched her with a noticeable mixture of surprise and apprehension. Obviously things had gone poorly if the way Mrs. Logan’s eyes radiated hostility were any indication. Ironically, Resa could tell if the older woman were relaxed she would have been a reflection of what Jennifer would likely resemble in years to come. Beautiful and refined. Classic.

But not now.

In this unfolding moment, the older woman only succeeded in looking austere and cruel, two words that Resa instinctively knew, should she live to be a hundred, she would never use to describe Jennifer. How very disappointing.

Still, she was stubborn if nothing else and a perverted part of her delighted in poking the displeased couple…if only just a little.

“Jennifer’s told me a great deal about you both,” she said, at last provoking a response.

“Really?” Mrs. Logan said dryly. “We’re just learning about you.” Her disapproving eyes flicked over Resa.

“I told them,” Jennifer explained.

“I gathered,” she replied wryly.

“You must be very happy with what you’ve accomplished here.” Mrs. Logan said, her lip curled in contempt.

Resa came very close to laughing but kept her voice decidedly neutral. “And what exactly have I accomplished?” she asked.

“Corrupting my daughter.”

Jennifer’s entire being tensed to the point of rigidity. “Mother. Don’t--”

Resa reached out to put a hand on Jennifer’s shoulder, effectively silencing the younger woman’s burgeoning tirade, something Resa instinctively knew she wanted to avoid, if possible. Green eyes met hers and a silent communication past between them before Resa turned her attention back to the watchful mother.

“To corrupt implies to deprave and dishonor,” Resa answered with smooth control. “And I would never describe our relationship in those terms.”

“What terms would you use then?” Mrs. Logan demanded. “What politically correct spin would you put on this whole mess?”

Unable to contain herself, Jennifer stepped forward before Resa could restrain her again, her jaw thrust to one side in furious resentment. “How about two people who met and fell in love.”

“Two women,” Mrs. Logan shot back.

“Well, last I checked women were people, though the way your acting right now, I think that might be debatable.”

The older woman was aghast. “How dare you talk to me like that?”

“And how dare you talk to me like that? Or to Resa? In my own house, I might add.”

“Well,” Mrs. Logan countered, her voice lowered an octave to martyr timber. “We can leave, if that’s what you’d like.”

For a long moment no one spoke as the threat hung over everyone’s heads like a guillotine, a threat Resa had frankly been expecting since the conversation began. It was the perfect passive-aggressive tactic and she’d already seen enough of Jennifer’s mother to recognize that as a likely fallback defense.

“Is that what you want?” Jennifer asked at last, unable to keep the raw pain out of her voice and Resa found herself fighting the urge to comfort her partner. Much as it was her instinct to protect Jennifer and much as she felt it her right to be able to physically express her affection, now was unquestionably not the time. That was, if this situation was ever going to end without an all-out Logan Family Excommunication.

“I want my daughter back, that’s what I want,” Mrs. Logan said and for the first time Resa detected a note of something other than bitterness coming from the older woman, something approaching humanity.

Jennifer raised her arms slightly out from her side. “I’m right here,” she said. “I’m the same person I was a half hour ago. I’m the same person I have always been.” She frowned, the barest trace of tears glistening in her eyes. “Can’t you see that?”

Mrs. Logan was clearly doubtful and it annoyed Resa. It took every ounce of self-control not to unleash herself on the older woman as she so wanted to do. But it wouldn’t have been the right course of action, no matter how poorly Mrs. Logan was behaving.

“It’s a sin,” the older woman whispered.

“In whose eyes?” Her daughter sounded exasperated.

“God’s eyes.”

“And did he tell you this personally?”

“It’s stated—“

“—in the Bible, yes, I know. Of course, if we’re all being honest with ourselves, we’d also admit the bible was written by men, not by God.”

“It has His divine hand guiding it.”

“So sayeth the same men who wrote it. Which is always convenient.” Blonde brows furrowed in irritation. “And, while we’re at it, when have you ever been a big proponent of what is and isn’t in the Bible? You’re barely Episcopalian.”

“I go to church more than you know, young lady. Don’t presume to know about me.”

“Well, I won’t if you won’t,” Jennifer countered.

The two women squared off against each other in mutual antagonism as both Resa and the taciturn Mr. Logan watched on. Then, after several beats, the younger woman’s shoulders slumped slightly in a subtle forlornness that hit Resa like a stab deep in her chest.

“Mother,” Jennifer said with sadness. “I have fallen in love with a woman. That’s all. I don’t use drugs. I don’t drink and drive. I have yet to kill anyone. I don’t even cheat on my taxes. I work hard each and every day to be the best person I can be and you know what? I think I do a pretty good job, all things considered. But if you want to throw away our entire relationship because you can’t deal with the fact I’m not going to be the little princess you’ve always envisioned, the one who gets married to the doctor or lawyer or Indian Chief and has three perfect children, then, really, that’s your problem, not mine.” Resa felt her hand grabbed by her partner. “And you can either accept that this is the person I have chosen to be with…” Jennifer drew in a deep, steadying breath. “…or you can leave. The decision is yours.”

There was a beat of silence as her words sunk in for all present and Resa found herself unconsciously holding her own breath. She was entirely aware that the manner in which Mrs. Logan handled this moment would be key to the future of her relationship with her daughter. And a little part of Resa somehow managed to remain optimistic, hoping for Jennifer’s sake that the older woman would have the strength and maturity to pull this runaway situation back on track.

Alas, that was not to be.

Mrs. Logan swung the focus of her attention squarely onto Resa.

“I blame you for this,” Mrs. Logan seethed.

Big surprise, was what Resa longed to say, but wisely refrained.

“You have destroyed my family,” Mrs. Logan continued. “Are you happy? Is this what you wanted? Is it?” Tears slipped down the older woman’s face and Resa had enough compassion to feel the tiniest bit sorry for her, even though the foundation for her grief was her own bigotry.

Resa squared her shoulders. “Mrs. Logan, I’m only going to say this once because it really isn’t in my nature to talk more than I need to. But, if anything has been destroyed here, I know it’s not my fault. And it isn’t Jennifer’s either. I know she loves her family, loves you both very much and would do nothing to hurt any of you. That’s just not in her makeup. And it isn’t in mine, either. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to destroy anyone’s family, especially Jennifer’s. But I’m not about to walk away from her just because it might be easier. For everyone involved. Myself included. So if any damage has been caused, it comes from your side, not mine and certainly not Jennifer’s.”

If Mrs. Logan’s face had suddenly split open to reveal the frenzied, pulsating physiognomy of a basilisk, the former gang leader would not have been surprised. She was that angry. But, even still, the former gang leader was unprepared for the older woman’s succinct reply of,

“Fuck you.”

Taken aback, Resa’s eyes widened, quite certain that was the very last thing she expected to come from Mrs. Logan’s mouth. And judging by the shock rippling across Jennifer’s face, it wasn’t what she was expecting, either.

“Barbara…” the quiet voice to her left interjected and Resa glanced over to where Mr. Logan stood gazing upon his wife with restrained disapproval.

She ignored him.

“Fuck. You!” she repeated, with even more venom than before as she took a step forward to challenge the far taller former gang leader with a fierce hatred she could not contain.

“Barbara, stop,” Mr. Logan insisted with greater force but she ignored him yet again.

“You have taken my-my daughter,” Mrs. Logan continued. “My precious, precious daughter and you--you have destroyed her!”

“Barbara--”

“Destroyed her!”

“Barbara!” He grabbed hold of her arm and spun her around until she was staring directly into his eyes. Her demeanor changed at once, almost as if she were a balloon deflating as she saw something in her husband that caught her up short.

In that moment they exchanged the long, meaningful look of which only two people who had known each other for decades were truly capable of sharing. Resa observed the fury dissipate from Mrs. Logan’s features and her breathing slowed markedly from the near panting rage she had been experiencing only seconds before. On some level, it was fascinating.

“Your purse is on the entry hall table,” he said in a far calmer tone. “Inside is your cell phone. Go there. Get it. Call for a Yellow Cab to pick us up right now and then wait for me outside on the front steps.”

“But—“

“I’ll be along in a minute.”

She didn’t move.

“Go.” He left no room for argument.

And with that, the fury that was Barbara Logan abruptly turned away and swept out of the room, not bothering with a backward glance.

Even before the older woman was gone, Resa moved to pull Jennifer to her, holding the smaller woman against her body to soothe her pain. She clenched her jaw and rested her cheek against the top of her partner’s head, tightening their embrace.

Sensing herself being observed, Resa glanced up and encountered Mr. Logan’s watchful gaze. She met his eyes and used the moment to take a second look at the man whom she had initially dismissed.

He reminded her of a character actor out of some television program or movie, the one whose face was always recognizable but whose name never quite registered. In less trying times, she would go so far as to say he even looked kind. Definitely paternal. She could tell he was studying her. Sizing her up. And oddly enough, she received his blatant appraisal devoid of any resentment, knowing as she somehow did, that his scrutiny was born out of the need to protect his daughter. How could she ever resent that?

He shifted his attention to Jennifer, blue eyes focused and to the point. “You sure about this?” he asked.

Jennifer pulled slightly away from Resa’s embrace in order to better address her father.

“Yes. More sure than I’ve been about anything before in my life.”

He accepted this with a nod. “It’s not going to be an easy life,” he said. “You prepared for that?”

“Probably not,” she confessed, her voice warbling slightly from emotion. “But I love her and won’t give her up, so I don’t have a choice.”

He seemed to consider this then glanced back to Resa. “And you… Do you love her?” he asked directly, not bothering with preamble, which she found admirable.

She watched him with equal directness. “I would die for her,” she replied.

His eyes narrowed, then he caught his lower lip between his teeth, reminding Resa at once of the young woman she held in her arms. It was intriguing to see such a familiar gesture echoed in a man she had only just met.

He seemed to recognize her sincerity. “You still doin’ that gang stuff?” he asked next in the same forthright manner.

Jennifer pulled back a bit more, though Resa would not release her, and glanced at her father. “How—?” she began to ask.

Mr. Logan fixed his daughter with a slightly amused look. “I told you I’d read your book, Jenny Beth. Every word. And contrary to popular belief, I wasn’t born yesterday. Or even the day before that. All I needed to know was in there.”

He turned his attention back to Resa and she shook her head at his question. “No, sir,” she said. “I haven’t done that for a long time. And I never will again.”

He gave an abrupt nod as though he had already anticipated this answer but felt it his duty to ask the question nonetheless.

He regarded her a moment, then frowned in curiosity, another action that she recognized as one Jennifer had inherited.

“What exactly do you do now?” he asked.

Oh, boy… she thought in bemusement, feeling the tiny prickle of a blush begin to steal its way up her neck. It was a subject she had managed to avoid with Jennifer up until now, not because she was ashamed of her occupation -- it was an entirely honorable profession -- but because of the reply such a revelation was sure to receive.

But, what the hell, she thought.

“I work for the Downtown Library,” she informed them, then prayed that she somehow wouldn’t blush further. Which she didn’t…but just barely. Particularly when she felt Jennifer stiffen against her and saw Mr. Logan’s blue eyes widened in surprise, which was pretty much the reaction she had expected. She was, after all, fully aware of the incongruity of her job and her persona and had often marveled at it herself.

“You’re…” he began.

“…a librarian?” Jennifer finished in disbelief.

Resa gave a little shrug. “Technically” she answered with a wry pull to her mouth. “I work mainly in the stacks. Logging in older books and trying to update the computer files. It’s pretty tedious, but it pays.”

And keeps me out of the public eye, she finished to herself, knowing that had been the greatest draw for her. The anonymity. The seclusion that came from being buried deep in the bowels of such a mighty and imposing institution.

Her first thought upon entering the building itself had been, A person could get lost in here… And that was precisely what she needed at the time. To disappear. Plus, in a subconscious draw that she had failed to realize at first, but slowly came to recognize over the ensuing months, being in the library also meant she was surrounded by books, which in a strange way was like having a little connection to Jennifer. There was a part of her that used to wonder if she would ever see the young author in such a place even though she knew that to be unlikely. The Los Angeles Downtown Library was so vast and her position so obscure that she barely saw most of the other employees and volunteers, let alone many of the visitors. Still, she knew there was always that tiny, optimistic segment of herself that had hoped against all reasoning and personal resolution that she might one day run into Jennifer. Might turn a corner to find the familiar face staring back at her…

…and, in a way, she had. When Resa had found the flyer for the book discussion posted in the employee lounge and had been drawn to Jennifer’s book-jacket photo printed up alongside several similar ones of the other authors who were speaking at the same engagement. At the Borders Books and Music.

Mr. Logan rubbed the side of his jaw. “Huh,” he said, then gave a little shake of his graying head. “Well, they sure do things different here in L.A.”

“I’m also taking some classes,” Resa offered, suddenly and irrationally feeling like a potential suitor wanting to look their best in the eyes of the would-be father-in-law. “UCLA extension.”

“In astronomy?” Jennifer asked, smiling in wonder.

Resa smiled in return and nodded, her self-esteem tingling at the obvious pride that shone across her companion’s face. Jennifer hugged her tighter.

“Oh, baby…” the younger woman whispered, tears spilling out over her cheeks and it took all of Resa’s willpower not to kiss her companion right then and there, something she could tell Jennifer was struggling with as well.

“What about you, Jenny Beth…” Mr. Logan asked.

“What about me, Daddy?”

“Are you happy?” he asked.

Jennifer rubbed one wet cheek with the back of her hand and nodded. “Yes, Daddy,” she said. “I’m as happy as I’ve ever been.”

He nodded again, a gesture that Resa was quickly recognizing was common. “Well,” he said, with a bit of a sigh. “I suppose that’s all I can really ask for.”

Jennifer frowned and sniffed. “I don’t understand…”

He gave a tiny grin, the lines beside his eyes deepening. “Darlin’,” he drawled. “One of these days, God willing, you’re going to have kids of your own and when you do you’ll realize that all you really want is for them to grow up and look you in the eye and tell you that they’re happy. And when that day happens, then you know you’ve done your job as a parent. Lookin’ at you right now, underneath all that cryin’ and blotchy skin and snotty nose, well, I can see I’ve done my job about as good as any parent can hope to do.”

Fresh tears spilled over onto her face. “Oh, Dad…”

He turned his attention to Resa. “And you…just because you’re a woman doesn’t mean I won’t kick your ass if you hurt her, you got that?”

“Yes, sir,” Resa acknowledged, doing her level best not to break out into a giddy smile.

“Good.” He turned back to Jennifer. “Now, if I know your Mom, and after livin’ with her for all these years I feel pretty safe sayin’ that I know her better than anyone, by the time we land in Sydney she’s gonna feel like a horse’s ass for how she’s behaved. And she’s gonna call you eventually, in a day or two, and she’s gonna hem and haw for as long as you’ll let her before she apologizes and ends up cryin’ like a baby.”

“Why do I doubt that.”

“You shouldn’t. Look, I know she was harsh on you. On both of you.” He nodded to Resa. “And what she said was hurtful.”

“And mean.”

“And mean. But you got to understand that she doesn’t take to change real well. Never has. All I’m askin’, darlin’, is don’t be too hard on her. She’s stubborn just like you but she does have a good heart. Just like you. And as much as it may not seem like it right now, deep down she just wants you to be happy too.”

“I am,” she said lifting her chin with a trace of defiance.

“I know you are,” Mr. Logan said with an indulgent grin. “It’s just gonna take your Mom a little longer to accept that you two have different definitions of ‘happy’. But I love you, Jenny Beth and I’m awfully glad you’re happy.” He frowned at Jennifer’s stunned expression. “What?”

“You,” she said in hushed amazement.

“What about me?”

She shrugged adorably. “You surprise me.”

“Why? Just because I voted for Dole and don’t want my taxes raised to high heaven I gotta adhere to all the rules of the Republican Party? Now who’s bein’ prejudiced?”

Jennifer stepped into her father’s embrace and hugged him tightly around the neck. A part of Resa melted at the sight.

“I love you, Daddy.”

He closed his eyes as he held her close. “You fill my heart, Baby Girl.”

Resa stood back as father and daughter embraced for several more moments, feeling in her heart a deep sense of relief mixed with joy that Jennifer was not going to be put through the pain of total rejection by both of her parents. But she also experienced a pang of longing as well, a strange if fervent desire to know what it meant to have such paternal love. Something she had been denied the whole of her life. Ahh, what she wouldn’t have given…

Jennifer and her father drew apart and he reached out to wipe the tears off her cheeks as she did for him, both smiling at the action of the other.

“I’m gonna go see about your Mom,” he told her then.

“Okay,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from emotion.

He turned to meet Resa’s eyes, some of the warmth leaving his expression, but it was not completely extinguished, for which she was grateful.

“You remember what I said about taking care of her.”

“Yes, sir.”

He stared at her a beat or two longer, assessing her sincerity, then, seemingly satisfied, nodded and with one last touch upon his daughter’s shoulder, turned to walk out of the room. A few seconds later she heard the front door open and shut, then silence.

* * * *

Jennifer heard the click of the front door as it closed and felt herself nearly go faint with a combination of anxiety and relief. Resa came up behind her and two powerful arms closed around her waist, pulling Jennifer tight.

“Are you okay?” Resa whispered close to her ear, the warmth sending a tingle down her neck.

“Yeah.” She nodded. “At least, I will be soon enough.”

Resa tugged her in the direction of the closest couch. “Let’s sit down.”

The younger woman complied, following her companion to the sofa and waiting patiently as Resa crossed to the nearby stereo, put in Miles Davis Kind Of Blue CD, and adjusted the volume to a satisfactory level. Seconds later, the familiar jazz tune was gently filling the air, bringing with it a soothing quality for which Jennifer was entirely grateful.

Then Resa was beside her again and Jennifer curled herself up beside her friend’s much larger frame, enjoying the feel of strong arms around her shoulders. She rested her head in the crook of Resa’s neck and they listened to each other’s breathing mingle with the music as the minutes slipped away.

There was too much she needed to process and as a consequence her mind went blank. She closed her eyes and just allowed herself to feel, to experience the wonder of someone else taking care of her in her time of need. Someone who loved her. She had always considered herself so damnably independent that it surprised her to no small degree how grateful she was for the presence of another on whom she could lean with such completeness. She felt almost unworthy, as if she had been given a gift by mistake and was waiting for the real owner to come forward to claim their rightful possession. Not that she would ever give up what she had without a fight…

Resa’s fingers gently massaged the tension that gathered along Jennifer’s shoulders, and the younger woman felt herself slowly begin to relax. She found herself floating between sleep and consciousness, for how long she did not know, but her mind slowly allowed itself to wander and she soon found her attention directed towards the events that had just transpired.

Had she been given all the time in the world to envision how the revelation with her parents would have unfolded, she honestly wouldn’t have dreamed up what actually took place. Her mother’s actions shocked her. They were so extreme, so hateful that Jennifer was left in a state well beyond hurt. Yet her father’s reaction left her equally astonished. She had known him always to be a simple man with deeply conservative ideals. My God, when she’d told him that she voted for Bill Clinton in both presidential elections she thought the man was going to have a stroke. Her mother, however, had supported her right, if not her choice, and the two women had joined forces in a lengthy ideological debate one Thanksgiving that was still discussed to this day.

So, when had things flipped around? she wondered. When did Mom become so intolerant?

A sound outside reached them, the sound of a car approaching. Both women listened intently. A couple moments passed, a door closed and then the car drove away, the noise gradually lessening until only a type of hush remained.

They’re gone, she realized and a part of her wanted to cry anew. She was about to resist the impulse, already afraid she was being too weak, when Resa’s hand cupped the back of her head and held her closer. The renewed contact helped her to release her emotions and allowed her the freedom to let loose without any concern of how it might be perceived.

For several minutes she let the tears flow, though she did not in fact weep. That wasn’t what she needed, not at this moment. She was too angry, too irritated and offended by her mother’s behavior to blubber and sob. Besides, a part of her knew her father was right, that her mother would calm down in time and come to the inglorious conclusion that she’d made a horrible mess of things. It was a typical pattern of behavior, but that didn’t make it acceptable. No, this would not be a situation out of which Barbara Logan could extradite herself with anything less than full repentance.

Resa rubbed her chin against the side of Jennifer’s face and then placed a warm, comforting kiss upon her cheek.

Thank God she came back, echoed softly in the back of Jennifer’s mind and she remembered anew the trepidation she had experienced at thinking that such might not be the case…

She pulled away slightly and looked into her partner’s eyes.

“Hi,” she said simply and Resa smiled.

“Hi yourself.”

“You came back.”

“Yep.” Resa nodded her dark head decisively. “That I did.”

Jennifer smiled, her heart full. “I’m glad,” she replied, then tipped her head to one side, suddenly curious. “But, why did you? I mean, I thought you said you weren’t going to be here when I told them.”

Resa lowered her eyes a moment. “I know and I’m sorry about that. I got home and thought about it and…I realized I was wrong.” She brushed a stray tendril off Jennifer’s forehead, then left her hand against the side of her face. “You asked for me to be with you and that’s all that matters. Nothing else.”

“And you were.”

“Eventually. Sorry I wasn’t better about the timing.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Jennifer said. “I think you had excellent timing.” She ran a hand over tired, swollen eyes, her energy spent from the ordeal. “How much did you hear?”

“Enough. The front windows were open and I could hear you two arguing when I approached. When I got close enough I heard the words Mexican and Cuban and my name and I knew then for certain that you’d already told them. So I came in.” She frowned a little. “You should make sure you lock your front door, you know.”

“Yes, ma’am. Continue”

“I wasn’t sure if I should just come in like that, so I hung back for a second, but then I heard things get increasingly…um, heated and the next thing I knew I was walking into the middle of everything. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh, no. No, not at all.” She let out a small, exhausted chuckle. “Actually, you couldn’t have planned it better.” She glanced briefly at her companion’s attire and grinned. “Particularly in that dress.”

“Do you like it?”

“Very much so.” She felt the stir of desire working its way past her earlier aggravation to break the surface and it surprised her a little, this despite the fact that she had spent the better part of the past day doing her best to satisfy her sexual appetite. Such an abiding hunger was new to her, so much so it felt surreal. Never before had she been like this, been so aware of her body and its needs. In a way it was like being an adolescent all over again, with the adolescent desires she had never truly explored.

“What?” Resa asked, blue eyes narrowed with suspicion.

Jennifer shrugged, an unexpected sense of giddiness sweeping over her, drawing her away from the resentment and anger that had dominated her thoughts only moments ago. Without stopping to think, she leaned forward to lay a kiss against Resa’s full lips, reveling in the way her partner responded without hesitation. Emotions gathered in the center of her chest, pushing against the inside of her ribs until she felt as if she might burst with the need of it all. Well over a minute passed as they indulged in one another, but both mindful that now was not the time to let passions go unchecked.

When they broke apart, Resa gazed down upon her with a wry smile. “Remind me to wear this more often,” she murmured in a throaty voice.

“Oh, yeah,” Jennifer responded with a giggle and kissed both of Resa’s flushed cheeks, then rubbed her forehead against her partner’s neck like a kitten. “Where’d you get it?”

“Left over from my darker days,” she said lightly. “I tossed out most of everything else, especially my wardrobe. But I liked this dress. So I kept it.”

“Good call.”

“Birkinstocks and flannel…” Resa scoffed.

“Actually,” Jennifer grinned sheepishly. “I own a little of both. But don’t tell Mom.”

“Oh, I don’t imagine I’ll be talking with her anytime soon.”

“No,” she agreed, her voice newly flat. “I don’t suppose you will.” She leaned back against the sofa, staring up at the high ceiling.

“How do you feel?” Resa asked.

There was a good half-minute of silence before Jennifer answered, “Mostly relieved. Like this huge weight is off my shoulders and I can breathe again…” She frowned. “But, at the same time, I’m…a little sad, too.”

“Why?”

“Because I know I hurt them, and I don’t want to do that.” She placed her hands over Resa’s. “I love them. They have all sorts of idiosyncrasies and issues, like everybody else, and they can drive me absolutely crazy at any given moment. But I still love them.”

“I know…Are you glad you told them?”

“Yes. Without question.” She glanced at Resa and then down, feeling the suggestion of a blush drift up her neck. “I almost didn’t.” Resa remained silent, waiting for her to continue. “I came this close to chickening out…but then, I realized that the only thing holding me back was my own fear.”

“Fear of what?”

Jennifer paused, battling the embarrassment that beset her. “You,” she whispered. “That you weren’t coming back.” She peered up at her friend through half-lowered lids. “Lame, huh?”

“No.” Resa shook her head, her eyes softened with understanding. “Not at all.” She squeezed her partner’s hand. “What made you change your mind?”

“I realized that to not tell them would have meant I didn’t have faith in you. In us. And that would have been wrong. I guess part of having faith is the not knowing before doing but doing it anyhow.”

Without losing eye-contact, Resa raised Jennifer’s hand to her lips and kissed it gently. “It’s called courage,” she said.

Jennifer shrugged. “I didn’t feel courageous. Just mostly…” She scrunched up her face. “…nauseous.”

Resa chuckled. “Poor baby.”

“I’m better now.”

“Good.”

They sat for several moments as the music flitted around them, dispelling, at least for the moment, the lingering traces of hostility that coursed through Jennifer’s body.

“What do you want to do now?” Resa asked at long last.

“You know, I honestly don’t care but I’ll tell you one thing…” She turned to face Resa. “I have to get out of this house!”

Her companion laughed. “Feel trapped, do you?”

“Like a rat. In a cage. Not…” she added a shade mischievously. “…that it hasn’t been very fun at times.” She smiled in such a way so Resa knew exactly to what she was referring and Resa returned her grin

“Yes, but even the horny need to eat,” she replied and Jennifer laughed at that. “You hungry?”

Jennifer nodded emphatically. “Yes. Food is good. I’m a fan of food, and eating in general, but especially at this moment. There’s something so very depleting about having an all-out war with one’s family.”

“Yep. Any suggestions?”

“Ooo!” Jennifer’s face alighted. “Actually, I do…”

* * * *

The December sky was freshly darkened, having just passed from the last stage of deepest indigo to full-on blackness, and though it was still fairly early by the time they made it out of the house, the tranquil hush that accompanied nighttime had already taken hold.

It was one of those rare occasions when the wind blew enough to tidy up the city air, leaving a perfectly fresh composition upon which the stars could twinkle and the Man in the Moon could puff out his mighty chest so that whomever should chance to behold his honey-colored fullness was left duly impressed. Los Angeles, for all the disrespect it garnered, could be magical when the effort was made, when it had the sense to dust off the smog and grime and pollution, and allowed the sparkle, the genuine beauty, to make its way to the fore. Tonight was such an occasion and Resa hoped it boded well for the rest of the evening, that everything would remain as peaceful as the environment around them. But knowing their track record, she wasn’t about to place any bets.

She sat in the passenger seat of Jennifer’s new silver Lexus LS 430 (“Well,” the younger woman had reasoned when Resa had raised one very inquisitive eyebrow. “I did have to replace the Land Rover…”) and watched surreptitiously as her companion handled the car with convincing ease. Jennifer’s hands, though small, were strong, as she well knew, and commanded the control of the car with unconscious authority.

By tacit agreement, neither spoke as they made their way to the restaurant. Only the hum of the car filled the interior as it sang along the road, with neither passenger nor driver particularly wanting to disturb the peacefulness. It was a rare moment of quiet in what had thus far proven to be a very noisy day.

After several minutes (with Resa having paid attention to none of their passing), Jennifer pulled the Lexus off La Cienega west onto Santa Monica Boulevard, drove a couple blocks and, apparently having properly appeased the Parking Gods, found an empty meter across the street from their destination: a restaurant called Benvenuto.

A wry smile hovered at the corner of Resa’s mouth.

Despite having spent all of her life in Los Angeles and despite having explored the vast majority of the city during her various exploits with Alfons, Resa Gustavez could honestly say she had very little knowledge of the particulars of West Hollywood, which was, as she well knew, ground central for the gay and lesbian community.

It would appear that was about to change.

As Jennifer checked her lipstick and eye shadow in the visor’s mirror, Resa glanced out the passenger’s side window and found her attention focused on two gay men, obviously a couple, strolling down the street while displaying an open affection for each other. A pat here, a nudge there, the total absence of body space. They were young and handsome and seemingly carefree and she could not tear her eyes away, though she was unconscious just then of why. Perhaps sensing her gaze, both men looked at her and she automatically smiled. The smaller man grinned in return, then winked and grabbed his boyfriend’s hand before sauntering off down the boulevard to disappear into the night.

Resa watched them until they were out of sight, then dropped her attention to where her fingers played with the door handle and wondered a bit at the interaction. They seemed so at ease, entirely comfortable in their own skin. She liked that. Liked the confidence and the outward display of inner strength, for even though this part of town had been staked out by the gay and lesbian community as their own personal area, it wasn’t a guarantee of sovereignty, and it didn’t entirely eliminate the inherent complexity being ‘different.’

Resa frowned a bit to herself. After all, she had never before taken issue with being different. For any reason. Indeed, there were times when she rather enjoyed being the outcast, reveled in it. But this situation she now found herself in was unlike any other she had ever before faced. It was all new and newness was often by its very nature a bit daunting, even for one as bold and daring as she. And yet, upon closer examination, she felt a stirring within her belly, the unmistakable stirring of excitement at being given a challenge that she had never before faced. In the last year and a half, challenges were the one thing she had studiously worked to avoid, having resigned herself to the most boring – and therefore in her reckoning safe – lifestyle she could imagine. But now she found she faced one of the most grueling tests she could have ever conceived for herself – the test of her own identity – and she felt…

…oddly invigorated.

Interesting.

Jennifer turned to her and asked, “Ready?” in her best perky attitude.

“Sure.” Why not? she finished in her own mind and exited the car.

With the coming of the evening came a cooling of the nighttime air though it was still quite warm for the heart of winter. Resa’s long, dark coat fluttered against her bare legs and her high-heels tapped agreeably against the cement sidewalk. Jennifer moved beside her and slipped her arm through the crook of Resa’s, bringing their bodies close together in a way quite similar to the two men she had observed only moments earlier. She found it most pleasing.

“West Hollywood,” Resa murmured wryly as they crossed the street. “You wasted no time diving right in.”

Jennifer just smiled and put an extra zip into her hop up onto the curb. A few minutes later they entered the dimly lighted interior of the restaurant.

“Hold on a sec…” the younger woman said and broke away from her partner to commandeer the attention of the handsome African American maître d'.

Resa took the opportunity to absorb the ambiance. It was a fairly quaint eatery, which from the outside somewhat resembled a two story house. The interior of the bottom floor had a slightly more than casual atmosphere as attractive waiters and waitresses in white shirts and black slacks buzzed past the mostly two-person tables that were, she noted in passing, primarily occupied by an upscale gay and lesbian clientele. She found herself drawn to the restaurant’s simplicity and relaxing elegance…as well as the rich aroma of garlic that poured from the open kitchen to hang thick in the air. Her mouth began to water of its own accord. Oh, how she did love garlic…

“Come on,” Jennifer said as she returned. “They have a table for us in the corner over there.”

“Great,” Resa replied, hunger getting the best of her. She followed Jennifer and the maître d' to an intimate table in the corner close to the small bar area, and held out her companion’s chair before taking her own.

“Man, I’m starved,” Jennifer said as she perused the menu with voracious eyes.

“I’ll try to keep my fingers away from your mouth until you’ve eaten,” Resa murmured, her own eyes devouring the menu selection.

“Very funny…although probably a wise idea.” Less than fifteen seconds passed before Jennifer announced, “Okay, I’m getting lobster ravioli and starting with a salad.”

Resa peered over the top of the menu. “That was quick. I haven’t even finished reading the menu yet.”

“Oh, I’ve been here before.”

“Really? When?”

“A few weeks ago. Do you want some wine? Merlot or Cabernet?”

“You decide.” Resa’s eyes narrowed in curiosity. “How often have you come to West Hollywood?”

Jennifer shrugged. “I drive through all the time. It’s in the middle of everything.”

“No, I mean, how often do you come here?” She waved her hand around. “To the gay part of town.”

“I don’t know, a few times.” Jennifer frowned. “Why do you ask?”

“I’ve never been here before.”

“To West Hollywood?”

Resa nodded.

“Never even drove through?”

“No, I’ve driven through, of course. I’ve just never stopped, never done anything.”

“Were you avoiding it?”

“No. I’ve simply never had the reason to look around.” Resa tipped her head to one side. “Have you?”

“I’ve driven through before, a million times. But I haven’t really ‘done’ the scene if you know what I mean.” Resa noted that her friend’s cheeks grew a shade pinker.

“Then what made you decide to come here tonight?”

Jennifer chewed the side of her mouth a moment in an overt sign of contemplation. “Well, I suppose if I really thought about it, it could be a reaction to the fight with Mom. My wanting to assert myself in an act of defiance by coming someplace…” She hesitated and her blush deepened.

“Gay?” Resa finished for her.

“Yeah.” She nodded and Resa watched the embarrassed flush turn Jennifer red. “Gosh, you know, that’s still hard for me to say so casually.” Green eyes focused on the empty plate before her as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. “Weird huh? I just had a knock-down, drag-out with Mom on this very subject but when it comes to me saying it for myself…”

“It’s difficult.”

“Very.” She sighed deeply, looking almost ashamed. “Much more than I ever would have thought.” A humorless chuckle escaped her. “Not that I really gave it much thought. Well, I mean, before…”

“Me.”

“Yeah. I know it’s crazy, but I never really considered the possibility for myself before, never thought I might be…gay…until today.”

Resa’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Today?”

“Yeah. Even while we were apart, I just never gave the same-sex thing much consideration. You were just you and I loved you. Not your gender.” She gave a little shrug. “In retrospect, it’s embarrassingly unenlightened of me. I mean, it’s probably because we hadn’t actually had sex until last night, never actually crossed that line. But, since we have…well, let’s just say the questions have been coming fast and furious.”

“About your sexuality.”

“Pretty much. Other things, too.”

“Such as?”

At that moment their waiter, a tall, strappingly handsome young man with enough flair for drama to safely conclude he was an out-of-work actor, made his appearance at their table, his hazel eyes properly contrite.

“So sorry for the delay, ladies,” he said breathlessly, hand to his chest in dismay. “This is the crazy hour when all the lovelies descend to devour. I’m Kip, your waiter, and I see you already have your waters. Is there anything else I can get you?”

“Yes.” Jennifer grabbed the wine menu, focusing on the selections, and, Resa suspected, somewhat relieved to have been given a brief reprieve from the subject at hand. “We’d like a bottle of the Treana, Cabernet Sauvignon, 1997.” She looked to Resa. “Do you know what you want yet or do you need more time?”

“No. You go ahead, order.”

“Okay. I’m going to start with a dinner salad and then have the lobster ravioli.” She handed the menus to the waiter and turned her attention to Resa.

“And I’ll have two orders of crab cakes for appetizers, the swordfish with a baked potato and the vegetable risotto for entrées.”

Kip gave her a look. “And do you have a wooden leg that you can eat all that and look so fabulous?” he asked dryly.

“Yes I do,” Resa replied with equal deadpan.

“Then, my, my, all hail the progress they’ve made in prosthetics,” he quipped and they all three smiled. “All righty. I’ll just get these to the lovely boys in the kitchen and be back in a flash with your wine.”

With that Kip moved off and when the two women returned their attention to each other, Resa sensed her companion’s sudden discomfort.

“What?”

“It’s funny,” Jennifer mused. “The first thing I thought when I saw him was, ‘Could he be more gay?’ And then I felt guilty for even thinking that, like I’m suddenly on his team and yet here I am thinking the same things that if they were thought about me, I’d be upset. It’s like I’d betrayed him and--and …does this make sense?”

“Absolutely. There are a lot of prejudice that exists out there. Whether you’re on the giving or receiving end, it doesn’t matter, you’re still gonna feel its effect. And you shouldn’t feel bad. This is all new for you, for both of us--”

“Really? For you, too?”

“Of course. I’ve never spent time in West Hollywood.”

“But you’ve been with other women. Right?”

Resa shifted her position in her chair. “Yes. But that was different.”

“How?”

“Because that was just sex for sex’s sake. It didn’t mean anything. And, as a consequence, it had no impact on my life. It was like a nice dinner. I ate, I enjoyed, I moved on. It was nothing like what we have.”

“Oh, I know that.” She waved Resa off with an unconscious lack of bother that the older woman found deeply amusing. “But, I’m talking about the fact that you’ve at least entertained the notion of yourself being something other than flat out, down the line heterosexual.”

“Yes.”

“And I haven’t. Ever. Until now.”

“But now that you have…”

“It scares me. I know it shouldn’t, and I know all the reasons why it shouldn’t. I’ve had arguments with friends and family members about gay and lesbian rights. I’ve been the so-called liberal black sheep of the family for a long time. But, now that it’s me…that it’s my life and not some hypothetical figure…well, it’s a lot harder than I could have ever imagined it would be. And I’m not even done with the first day.” Jennifer rubbed the crease between her brows as if trying to remove some unseen blemish from her forehead. “I am such a coward.”

“Don’t. You’re anything but.” Resa reached out to take hold of Jennifer’s wrist and draw her hand away from her face, bringing it to the table and into her own much larger palm. “It’s all right to be scared, honey. I am.”

Jennifer’s eyes widened in astonishment. “You are?”

“Sure.”

“Why are you scared?”

“Because our being together is never going to be easy. I thought about that very fact earlier today, after I left you. And it wasn’t a fun reality to face, either. Frankly, it left me questioning my judgment, whether my being with you is just selfishness on my part, whether it would be better for us to—“

“No!”

Resa smiled gently. “I know.” She gave Jennifer’s hand a light squeeze. “I know. But it’s still an issue in our relationship that most everyone else will never have to consider. And that right there pisses me off. Scares me, too. Just by the nature of the world around us means we aren’t going to have as easy a go of it, not as easy as other people and it makes me feel…uncomfortable when I think of all the bullshit you’re going to encounter. Me? I can handle it. I’ve been through much worse. But you... Oh, baby, you shouldn’t have to deal with any of that and I wish to God that I could protect you from it. But I can’t. And that’s what scares me.”