Beneath the Watchful Ginkgoes

And she seemed pleased, in some small way, that I could say the same.

"Are you busy tonight?" she asked me as we waited for my bus.

"No. I'm hardly ever busy these days."

"Would you like to be?" she asked.

I stared up into her eyes.

"Yes," I breathed. "Oh, yes, I would like to be."

"Okay. Then I guess I'll bring stuff for supper."

"And... breakfast?" I said, softly, pushing my luck just a little.

"I'm not sure you deserve breakfast" she said. But her smile gave the lie to her words, so I simply pushed in against her and kissed the curve of her neck and closed my eyes against her, uncaring of anything but that I stood within the circle of her arms once more.

XVI

She finished drying the last plate and set it gently down into the laundry rack for the morning.

"Thank you," I said.

She smiled.

"My pleasure. It's nice working next to you. You... fit well."

"Yeah," I said, flushing. I'd been all arms and elbows, bumping myself, nearly cutting myself, dropping cutlery... all while she'd stood, amused, and done her part with a calm efficiency that put me to shame.

"I always loved cooking," she said softly. "I used to cook treats and meals for Davey. I haven't much since then. It's... nice to have someone to do it for, again," she added.

I moved in closer and wrapped an arm around her. "I like having you in this space like this," I said. "I like how you fill it."

"Mm. Cos I'm tall, you mean?"

I stared up at her grin.

"I like how tall you are," I said. "I always have."

"It's just because it puts my boobs closer to your mouth."

"Well, yes, that too," I admitted, grinning. "But they are nice boobs."

She snorted. "Is there any more wine? Since the evening seems to be headed towards innuendo, I should probably refuel."

"Do you really need more wine to be able to deal with me?"

She paused.

"No," she said, softly. "I'm just... nervous."

"Why?"

"Because... I've been looking forward to this since I saw you."

"This?"

"You know..." she whispered, flushing. "Being with you."

I smiled. "Being with me, or making love?"

"Becca," she sighed. "Stop teasing me. You know what I mean. I've only been with one person - you - and... just when I discovered how nice sex was, we... took our break," she added, gently.

"I fucked up," I corrected her. "I'm not afraid to own it, okay? But..."

I fumbled her hand into mine.

"I... think I've learned a little bit since then," I said, softer.

"So have I, I think."

"So... how about we kill the lights out here, and go... just be present with one another."

"I'd like that," she said softly. "But I make no promises to keep my hands to myself."

I reached out, and slowly tugged her tee shirt free from the waistband of her jeans.

"My hands are a bit cold, sorry," I whispered.

"I don't... mind..." she breathed, her belly muscles twitching as I slipped my fingers under the fabric and slowly up along her ribs. She made a soft, wordless sound as I found the lace cups of her bra. Her eyes had widened, darkened... she licked her lips and shivered as I stroked my fingers around the warm globes of her breasts.

"I missed you," I said, staring up at her. "I missed... the way you were always so warm, the way your hip and thigh felt so good against me when we walked. I missed..."

I stood on my tiptoes to kiss her...

"... that, the feel of your lips on mine," I continued breathlessly. "I missed the... the anticipation, before we'd slept together, of whether I'd ever get to see you nude or not."

"You're going to see me nude in about thirteen seconds," she moaned. She put her fingers to the hem of her shirt and pulled it up and off herself. A brief struggle and her bra fell free.

"Astrid, the lights are still on..." I whispered.

"I don't care. I'm long past caring about unimportant things. Anyone who's watching can enjoy the eyeful of my scrawny bum."

She began to unbutton my blouse.

"Touch me," she said, so I reached around her arms and began to stroke, to finger her soft, puffy nipples. She shivered, breasts jiggling. She folded back my blouse; I released her and let and my bra fall aside as well. She reached down and tripped the catch and button of my skirt; it slid down my legs and fell aside.

She reached down; I stood still, my breath loud in my throat, as she pulled my sheer panties off me.

"There," she said, voice thick and throaty. "That's what I wanted. You, naked, in front of me."

She fumbled at the button of her jeans and slid them and her own panties down and off her. She kicked them aside with disdain. "And now you've got me," she whispered. She took my hand, and put it against her chest, between her small, perfect breasts.

"I want to give myself to you again," she said, soft and intense. "The first time doesn't count; I didn't know what I was doing. Now I do. And I want to give myself to you, Rebecca. You and nobody else."

I reached up and wrapped my arms around her, clenching them behind her neck and pulling myself in against her.

"I want you to have me," I whispered. "I want you to have me and nobody else. I want to be yours."

She tugged gently on my hand, and pulled me through to my room. I pulled back my duvet and slipped in under the covers; she eased in beside me and pulled it back over us.

Kissing her came as natural as sunrise. I started slowly, but my need ramped up quickly, and before very long at all I had my thigh up and over her belly and my finger on her breast.

"Touch me," she panted, as she broke for air. "Touch my lips..."

She was soaking wet, hot, her entrance pulsing gently against me as I teased along it. But I had other ideas. I shifted downwards, and further downwards...

"Becca..." she said, not comprehending.

I pushed her legs open and sat up for a breath of air. Then I lowered myself to her.

"Becca, oh my God, what... oh... oh..."

She shuddered beneath my tongue. She'd never had this, never had a lover's tongue and lips on this most intimate part of her. I planned to show her just what she'd been missing out on.

She grappled downwards, found her lips, spread herself instinctively as I probed and teased her. I quickly found that she loved it when I used the tip of my tongue on the base of her clit; her thighs clenched and released on me and the pitch of her breathing would change. I slicked up a fingertip on her, and as I tongued and lapped her I slowly, gently eased it into her - just a little at first, just to get her used to me.

She moaned - loud and low, a deranged sound, the kind of sound I knew I made when I was close.

"Deeper," she gasped. "Fuck me hard, fuck me hard Becca, oh fuck me... fuck..."

So I did.

It didn't take long. She'd been ready long before we started; all she'd needed was the gentle little nudge.

I gave it to her; she convulsed up, crying out, her entire body spasming and contracting on my penetrating digit as she clutched at me and rode me and ground along me.

She slumped back, panting. I kissed her clit, kissed gently on her mons, and then kissed slowly up her quivering belly, past her breast, to her waiting lips.

"You taste good," I whispered. "I love doing that to you."

And she moaned softly as she tasted herself on me.

I teased my finger slowly back and forth inside her, loving the way her legs squirmed and her toes curled. Then, regretfully, I released her and gathered her in to me.

High colour had flushed her cheeks and sweat beaded her throat.

Her eyes were dark as night, and she stared wordlessly at me.

"That was... perfect," she whispered. "That was everything I wanted it to be."

"I'm just getting started," I answered softly. "I reckon you've got at least two more orgasms in you before I break you."

And she laughed, and cried a bit, and then kissed me.

Later - much later, she lay dozing in my arms. Her presence warmed me, filled me to overflowing. My body was sated, my heart was full, and my lover close enough to touch, and taste and see.

I was content. Happy, even At peace. And the strangeness of that long-forgotten feeling stayed with me until I woke in the morning, curled around her.

XVI

I woke her with kisses and a slick finger between her lips; a quick, gentle orgasm for both of us set the golden, gentle tone of the start of this new day.

I fed her the honey toast she wanted, and the black coffee she clearly needed, and showered her with the kisses that she so desperately craved.

We showered, and dressed one another, and she sat still - eyes closed in bliss - as she let me comb and plait her hair.

"So..." I said, softly, as I finished tying it up for her.

"So?" she answered. "I guess from the tone that it's time for me to go?"

"Well.. yes and no. I would love nothing more than to spend all of today here, with you - in various stages of undress. But... I have someone that I need to go and see. It's... unofficial but important, if that makes sense?"

"Hmm... not really. But then, you are a confusing creature," she said, smiling up at me.

I swallowed hard and summoned the courage to ask.

"Astrid - I wanted to ask if... well... if you'd be prepared to come with me. No pressure. It's just... it would mean a lot to me."

Her eyes narrowed. "It's... not Elizabeth; you wouldn't be asking if it was..."

"It's her dad."

"Oh," she said, softly. "That's... Mick, right?"

"Yeah. I... he was there for me, after her. And then, again, after I screwed us up so badly. I..."

"You need to show him you're okay. And that I'm back; is that it?"

"Sort of exactly that, yes."

She took a breath, then sighed it out. "The things we do," she muttered. Then she laughed, softly. "Okay. Let's go."

"... seriously? Just like that?"

"Just like that. I'm all in, Becca. This is what that means. I'll go with you to the edge of the world and beyond. Maybe not gladly, and maybe I'll pass little sarcastic comments along the way, but I'll be there with you at the bitter end. No matter what comes our way."

"Oh..." I whispered, humbled.

"So... I take it we need to leave now, or at least soon?"

"Now would be good," I managed. "He's usually out mid-morning, so I'd like to catch him before he heads off. It's cold out, though... do you want to borrow a jumper and a scarf?"

"I've got my parka..."

"It's never kept you warm enough. You were always shivering in it."

"I'll be okay," she insisted. "I'm a big girl."

I thought for a moment.

"Wait," I said, softly. "Just... just wait here a moment. There's one I think will do."

Lizzy's lovely navy coat was still hanging where I'd shoved it in the back of my tiny wardrobe. I pulled it out, shook it, and stared for a moment at the little pale green Ginkgo leaf that Lizzie had embroidered on the right breast pocket during that long-ago winter...

Lizzy had always said that Ginkgoes were a symbol of endurance... and healing.

I took a deep breath and turned.

"Here," I said softly. "I think this will fit you. It's a lot warmer. Please. Here."

She stared at it, then at me. And I knew she knew whose it had been.

"Becca..." she began.

"It was Elizabeth's," I agreed, before she could ask. "She'd be glad it was being worn again."

"Becca, I really don't..."

"Just try it on. If it doesn't fit I'll donate it to charity, but... I'd far rather it was keeping you warm for me."

"Are you sure that's the reason?" she said, softly.

"Yes," I answered, as softly, after giving her question the consideration she deserved. "I'm not trying to dress you like her. I'm not trying to turn you into her. It's a down jacket, and good to below freezing, and it will probably fit you, and I'd... like to know that it was keeping the woman I love warm again. But in the end it's a just a coat, and if you don't want it, I will let it go somewhere where it can do someone some good."

She sighed, hesitated... then reached with gentle reverence. She touched the fabric, and paused again.

"It's... lovely. But... only if you're sure, and only if it fits. Deal?"

"Deal. Here. Give me your arm. I'll hold it for you. And the other... there. Do it up? Oh... oh, wow. Astrid - it looks perfect on you. It's perfect. It's like it was made with you in mind..."

"As if I needed another reminder of how similar we were..." she muttered. Her hand shot to her mouth. "Fuck! I... oh Christ, I didn't mean that to come out the way it did..."

I reached out and straightened the collar, then ran my fingers slowly outwards to her arms. I caught her hands and squeezed them as I smiled up at her.

She had not offended me.

"I know you didn't mean anything by that. You're built like she was - tall and slender. But she's long gone, and I'm with you. I'm all in with you and you alone. Okay?"

She turned her face and tucked it into the synthetic fur collar.

"It's so nice," she breathed. "It's... it's so much better than anything I have. Or could afford..."

"It's perfect," I agreed. "So... it's yours if you'd like it."

"I'm still not sure." She made a face. "It feels... disrespectful, somehow. To her, I mean."

"She'd be glad, Astrid - that was always Lizzy's way. She was a generous and pragmatic woman. And it really, really flatters you. Wear it for today," I said, softly. "Decide later. I won't push, but it would really make me glad to be able to give it to you like this."

She sighed again.

"Okay," she whispered. "For today, then."

"Come," I said, as I shrugged my own warm coat on. "Mick isn't far, and if we're lucky there may be bacon."

"What's he like?" she said.

"The nicest, gentlest, kindest man you will ever meet. I'd... probably be dead, were it not for him. He kept me here. He held tight to me and didn't let go."

She reached out and took my hand.

"I love him already, then," she said.

I closed and locked my flat door; she looped her arm through mine as she always did, and she helped me make my way down the stairs. We caught our bus, and changed to the second, and she sat beside me, pink and warm, unconsciously fingering the seam of the jacket's right pocket.

I leaned my head against her shoulder, and she kissed my forehead once more.

"I could get used to that," I whispered.

"Good," she retorted. "Because it's a thing you're going to have to get used to."

The bus juddered to a halt just down the road from Mick's little bungalow, and she helped me stand and dismount.

We stared at the weathered white door.

"Are you ready?" I asked.

"No," she grumbled. "Of course I'm not. But... let's do it anyway. It's a good time to meet him."

"Okay," I breathed.

I pushed the doorbell, and waited patiently as footsteps clonked towards the far side. Then Mick opened the door and stood gaping at us for a moment.

"Hello, Da" I said. Astrid shifted beside me, then made a soft noise as I stepped forward to hug him hard.

"Becca, by all that's good in the world... I had a strange feeling when I woke this morning. And... well, you must be Astrid, darling. Come in, you two, come in. I'm beyond glad to see you girls. It's a good day for it. Can I put on the tea, my lovelies?"

"Yes please, Da," I said.

"Come inside then, and close that awful cold outside."

He bumbled down the narrow passage towards the kitchen, I hung our coats on the battered brass rack and ushered Astrid along in front of me. She glanced left and right at all the timeless faces on the walls, then turned to give me a brave smile.

"I love you," I mouthed; she flushed and stumbled.

"Sit here, Astrid, dear," Mick said, as he offered her the best of his stools. "I'll put Becca beside you, and I'll hold the counter up over here. So, to what do I owe this grand delight - not one, but two such beautiful young girls in my humble kitchen?"

"Oh Da," I said. "Don't be daft. You know why we're here."

"Oh, I suppose I do. You wanted me to meet the girl you're seeing?"

"Obviously, Da," I said, smiling up at him.

"I trust to the Almighty you're not here for some sort of blessing, Becca," he said. "Because you can take that as read, love. She's a bit strange at times, our girl," he added, for Astrid's benefit.

"A bit strange," Astrid said with a smile. "That's an understatement. I can think of other things I could call her."

Mick grinned at her. "Oh, I know. You'll learn that our Becca is headstrong as a mule, as well. My daughter never could make her do a thing she didn't want to. So. Astrid - am I truly to believe that you've made the lamentable choice of choosing this foolish young creature as your own?"

"Hey. I'm right here," I protested.

"Yes, I kind of think I have," she said. She smiled at him. "It's been... an experience. But, so far, mostly a positive one. I'm not regretting my choice. Yet," she added, with a wink for me.

"Oh, ha, ha," I muttered.

"Good," he said softly. "She's been alone for far too long. Will you take care of her for me?"

Her grin faded; she met his clear gaze with quiet, calm dignity.

"For as long as she'll let me," she softly replied. She shot me a glance. "But as you said, she's stubborn. So I'll do my best. Mr O'Connor..."

"Mick, love," he insisted.

"So... Mick... so that I'm properly prepared - tell me all the juicy bits about her. She claims she's perfect. I, of course, know better than to believe the guilty party..."

"Astrid!" I protested. "Mick, don't you dare!" I added.

He laughed, and leaned back.

"Oh. Becca? She's disappointingly well-behaved - she's a diamond through and through, love. She'll take your darkness away and replace it with light and laughter. There never was another girl like her... well... maybe there was, once," he added softly, as he reached up to touch the little flower in his left ear. "But that story's done now. She's gone, and we remain."

"I'm sorry..." she breathed.

"No, there's nothing to be sorry for. I loved my daughter, Astrid. I still do. Always will. But I love this other daughter of mine too," he added, with a gentle smile for me. "And... well, I'd dearly love to meet the woman she's going to grow old with."

My throat closed on me; I swallowed hard.

"Da," I said, softly. "She's barely taken me back, it's a little soon..."

Astrid had turned to me; she stared at me for a long, heart-stopping moment...

"I think you might just have met her, Mick," she whispered, at last, and whatever last, little lingering doubts I might have harboured in whatever remote dark places within me burned away forever.

Her eyes were wide, haunted, and overflowing with love.

And Mick watched us both for a moment, then smiled that bittersweet smile of his.

"Yes, I reckon I have, at that" he agreed.

I felt hot tears on my cheeks; she reached out to brush them away for me.

"Sorry," I managed, at the third attempt. "Fucking things..."

"Don't worry, love," she whispered. "Not all tears are bad."

"I know," I sobbed.

And she kissed them away.

"Astrid, my darling, please put me at ease and tell me that you drink Ceylon?" Mick asked her, to give me the moment I desperately needed.

"I have been known to," she confessed.

"Then let me make us a pot of it. And then, if you'll indulge me, I'll tell you a bit about my daughters - if you'll let me."

"I'd like to hear about them, Mick," she said. "I'd like to know everything about Lizzy and Becca - about them both."

She took my hand and held it in hers.

"There's a lot I feel I need to know," she said. "I need to know who she was - to you and to Becca."

"So I'll tell you," he said.

The bright morning beyond the kitchen blind waxed golden with the coming of noon. She listened, and Mick spoke, and I watched both of them, humbled and awed by the delicate and loving way she'd found to include Lizzy's shade among us.

It was late when Mick walked us to the door.