Mood Ring Ch. 05

I smiled and conducted Lynne inside, shut the door and asked her if she had been expecting this? Of course I knew she could have no expectations, but I wanted to see her enthusiastic response.

I was not disappointed and Lynne genuinely was amazed by the ambiance. I turned on some background music, there are several files and I just chose one randomly. It was nice classical music so I let it alone.

I realized that I wanted some wine, but I was not sure how much more my companion could take. She appeared to have sobered up and as she took her seat, I asked her, "How do you feel, can I order a bottle of wine or have you had too much?"

She replied, "I have had more to drink tonight than I have had in a long time, but I think wine sounds very nice. I want you to know that I had planned on only having two margaritas, but circumstances ..."

I told her I understood. Events had moved quickly and she had been placed in the position to drink more that she had intended. I did not believe she drank very often at all, but tonight was supposed to be a celebration. I would take care of her safety.

She made some pop culture joke and started to giggle. Well, I think it was obvious she wasn't sober, but her ability to play was enchanting.

After inquiring about allergies or tastes, she gave me carte blanche to order dinner. She also worded it in a double-entendre suggesting that she was ready to try anything new. I heard it but filed it away.

I placed the order for the "Seduction Selection" in Italian because, well damn, what an embarrassing name. But the courses were tasty. I slipped in and out of languages easily. We traveled around Europe when I grew up and then René had us moving around the continent for business. I did not think anything of the fact that I was fluent in six languages. I just acquired them. I was a very useful tool for René and his schemes.

The wine arrived and I poured us a glass each. I suggested that the wine should breathe before we drank it as it was a good red wine and allowing it to breathe would open up the flavor.

Lynne excused herself to visit the W.C. and I sat thinking as she attended to her freshening up. I was very happy for the first time in an age. Spending time with my young companion had renewed me and touched me in ways that I did not remember were possible. She was very flirty, but seemed unsure about committing interest. She had to know I found her engaging. When she returned I would feel her out a little more. I knew just what to do.

I heard a "Whooop!" from the water closet. She had shocked herself somehow and I presumed that she had turned on the bidet without warming the water first. Oh so funny!

I was trying not to laugh as she came out from behind the dark brown wall hanging that concealed the door and she said, "The drinking fountain was a little hard to drink out of. Why is it so low and close to the toilet?" I laughed at that and asked her if the water was cold? She relied that it was refreshing and I enjoyed her wit. What a bright young lady. I had to raise the bar so I raised my wine glass and proposed a toast.

"For a night for only us women without interruption by men who are brutes when drunk and worse when sober!" Yes, I changed the wording slightly. Yes, she noticed. No, she did not react in any way that I would have predicted.

She sort-of froze with her glass raised. I noticed two things at once; first her ring on the hand holding the upraised glass turned orange, second, she had a deer in the headlights look and stared right at me like she was frightened of me all of a sudden.

I lowered my glass and stood there. She did not move. It was like she had short-circuited. I thought to myself "Oh Merde, I have broken the poor girl." Then the light went off. Lynne was enjoying my attention, but she evidently did not return my attraction. I had placed her in an uncomfortable position and she did not know what to do since I was in a position of power over her. It was fun when we were just suggestively flirting, but when I raised the bar, I forced her like I said I was not going to. Maybe at 38 I was too old for her and this 27 year old was only attracted to younger girls her own age. I had to fix this and now.

I cleared my throat and she jumped slightly like she had reentered her body. "Sit down ma Cherie." I took the glass out of her hand and sat her down. Her green doe-like eyes followed my movements like she would bolt if I moved suddenly.

I then sat next to her crossed my legs and took her hand in mine. She looked like a frightened animal and I needed to soothe her quickly.

I looked down at our clasped hands and broke the silence, "You know, I just watched your mood stones change from a green color right before my toast to an orange one now. I remember the circumstances in which your jewelry was orange earlier. I think I can guess what that means. I owe you an apology. I think I misread you and set in motion events this evening that have made you uncomfortable."

She looked up at me and I realized that she looked like a child that had been caught sneaking goodies from under her mother's inattention. Puzzling.

She said almost so softly in her accented voice "I have a confession of my own."

I did not want to hear that I was an unattractive old lady, so I thought I would reveal what I knew about her and let her know it was OK that she was only attracted to young women.

I broke in with, "I met your girlfriend when you were in a coma."

Again an unexpected reaction. I could not read this girl at all.

She looked at me and blinked her eyes rapidly as if I had just told her that I knew she was a Martian. So I felt the need to explain.

"The pretty blonde haired girl came around every day for a few hours until she was asked to leave by your family. I had spoken to her and she was very upset and told me that she loved you but had made a terrible mistake and now it was too late to fix things. I naturally presumed that you were once lovers."

She looked at me for a few moments and then dropped her head. What was going on here? I then noticed tears falling softly and that she was gently weeping.

"Are you crying? What have I said that has upset you?" I stood her up and embraced her gently. I was a complete fool. I was so indelicate to mention her love from whom she had evidently been estranged under who knows what circumstance. All I could do at this point was offer her comfort and hold her while the sorrow ran its course.

"Let it all out. Women in our profession have to repress a lot of sorrow and when the dam bursts sometimes there is a flood that escapes all at once from the accumulated repressed emotion."

The sobs racked her body and I genuinely felt for her.

She had a good cry. It lasted for about 3 minutes and drenched my jacket shoulder. I think the cashmere would be ruined, but what did I care. I rarely wore the same item of clothing twice and her expression of sorrow was beyond price. If she exorcised some of her demons with it then it was all for the better.

She stopped sobbing and slowly eased out of our embrace. I guided her to sit and then I sat beside her.

She said "I hope I didn't ruin your clothes." And then wiped at her eyes.

Such a sweet thoughtful young woman. I told her, "Clothes are replaceable. I may even never wear this again anyway. Don't beat yourself up for letting your feelings out."

She excused herself to the water closet and I removed my jacket as the damp material was not comfortable. I hung it up to dry and regarded myself in the mirror.

I did not think my 38 years showed. I had avoided much sun exposure in my youth and only lately sported a light tan. I had the beginnings of crow's feet at my eye edges, but I had good genes and a regimen of nightly moisturizer had staved off the obvious effects of aging. My make-up was light but I prided myself in its application. My hair was light blond and I did not have any grey in it yet so it was spared the harshness of colorizing chemicals. I was disappointed in her obvious aversion to my approach, but life is not predictable.

I reached into the loose lace cups of my silk wrap camisole and gave a quick uplift to my humble breasts. The floral print material was very sheer and I always like to present myself neatly. I have always had pert lolos (tits) and again I had been spared the aging effects by genetics. Both women and men had been enamored of my breasts my entire life. Turning both one side then to the other I regarded them critically. They were plump teardrops. By "fluffing" them on their cups, they appeared to defy gravity. Even completely unconfined, there was no sag and just a defining décolletage. I have always been proud of them and they stand proudly on my lithe frame.

I adjusted the sash of the wrap and then sat down while Lynne fixed her appearance.

She emerged from the W.C. and stopped after she cleared the door.

"Dr. Beecham, ..." I am not sure why I reacted so, but I was distraught to hear her relapse into formal address. I desired a friendship with this vibrant young lady and I had ruined everything with my premature approach. I was up and holding her hands before I could think.

"Please call me Anya, now and forever." I was surprised to her an almost begging sound in my voice and realized that this meant more to me than I was aware.

I led her over to the seats and as she looked me in the eyes, she said, "Anya, I haven't been fair or honest with you tonight. I am so sorry. I don't know what I am doing and I did not mean to lead you on. Your attention is exciting but I don't deserve it.

I need to sit for this."

Well here it was going to come. I think I needed to sit for this also.

"Haley, the pretty blonde wasn't my girlfriend. We were just silly girls that kissed each other for attention in bars so boys would like us. Or so I thought, apparently Haley had feelings for me; I never knew that she visited me. I had cruelly cut her off when she revealed to me that she wanted more than our casual social friendship. I have done some very bad things. I have destroyed the feelings of almost everyone that has had romantic feelings for me without realizing it."

I felt foolish for jumping to that conclusion. Of course Haley's romantic intent had been one-sided. That is why the family ran her off and why she and Lynne had not reunited. As for her "bad things"; such melodrama, I could educate her about bad things. She was so naïve to carry the cross of disappointing people that were infatuated with her. We are not responsible if a person decides they want more than we can give. And if we handle it badly? There is no manual to follow in such things. She was sweet to feel bad about it.

"I have been so numb ever since my accident that I am not even sure that I have true feelings anymore. Tonight is the first time that I have had a good cry since I can remember, and I have a lot to be sorrowful for. I cannot explain what happened when you kissed me. It was very sweet and I enjoyed it, but I don't deserve it. I am afraid that I cannot return your interest like you deserve. You are warm, gentle and a complete lady. I am going to embarrass myself and tell you that I almost idol-worship you."

Wow if only she knew! I could only smile. Her sincerity touched me and I felt a tear develop as I was crucified by her ignorance of who I really was.

"If you were a man and I wasn't such a screwed-up mess, Anya, I would want to marry you. Well, that is maybe jumping to conclusions, but I think you could be perfect for me. But I want to get married and have babies. Two women cannot have that in this world."

OK time to rein this one in. I am pretty sure that at one level, Lynne was interested in women, her body clues were dead giveaways that she was sexually stimulated by our flirting, touching, and teasing. I cynically knew I could seal this deal and have her at my mercy within an hour. But, I wanted this to be her choice and not purely my seduction. However, if I let her reinforce the whole "two women cannot please each other or make love" thought; it was for sure not going to happen. I knew that love takes many different forms. I wanted an equal love relationship myself. I wanted to know what one was like. I would never find it if I manipulated this mild sweet girl to bed. But, if I could appeal to the witty and spirited young woman I could see sitting in front of me, we just might have a chance at true love. But it would have to be on equal footings.

"Lynne, you must understand. I am not someone who just met you in a bar tonight. I know more about your history than most people and I have known you for three years. My attraction to you is not based on just one kiss and some flirty banter. I have watched you during this accreditation course and at work and I know who you are when nobody is watching. You are a kind generous soul. You do good acts without asking for recognition. If I am right recognition would cheapen the gesture?

She nodded at that.

I needed to come clean with her. I could not give a full confession because I did not want to cast down my own image from the pedestal, but at least I could climb down from it for now.

"I am not a saint or someone to idolize. I have done terrible things in my past as well. I have literally destroyed lives through heartlessness. My actions now are to atone for a past littered with broken lives marriages and businesses. I cannot change my past, but I am responsible for my future."

I released my hold on her hands and reached over to my glass.

I raised it and said, "Allow me to make a new toast. To our future voyage in life; may there always be wind to fill our sails, may our vessel weather any storm in which it finds itself and may we always be able to find a safe harbor."

We clinked our wine glasses and I drank deeply.

I placed my glass on the table and realized that I was starving. It was time for our first course. I knew my lovely companion was intrigued by my attention and excited by my touch. I was enamored with her and I had prematurely made an indirect but broad approach because I had erroneously concluded that she was an active (even if inexperienced) bisexual and knew what she was doing to me with her flirting charm. Now, I realized that she was a true lesbian tyro. Her clumsy and endearing flirting with me was real interest, but she was very conflicted. She was at the least very curious but was shy.

I could land this rare and precious catch, but it would take subtlety and all of my skill to do it correctly. I had already spooked her by my bluntness; it wouldn't take any more of my maladroit bungling and she would be lost to me forever: that would not do. I desired to capture her as she had already effortless and unconsciously captured me; with humor, kindness and above all else by giving the selfless gift of open honesty.

I can't remember ever having tried that approach before.

I noticed a general decrease in the tension in the room. I think putting everything out on the table so to speak allowed us to approach each other on the same level. Lynne had revealed that she was attracted to me but didn't want to disappoint me. I had revealed that I was attracted to her, but she should not hero-worship me.

I still had to be careful. She still seemed a little spooked like a frightened and cornered animal that was just realizing that the calmly talking human might not eat her and that the food being offered smelled good.

I decided to dial back the threat level a bit and redirect the discussion from "us" and focus on her. Maybe through a casual conversation, I could allow her realize that her resistance to a relationship between us was built on several logical fallacies; a "naturalistic assumption" that because two women cannot make a child together means that they cannot make love and have a vital love develop between them, a "slippery slope" assumption that because they cannot make a child that they will break apart if they fall in love, and a "circular argument" that because two women in love cannot make a child together, that they cannot become life partners or get married and raise children together. With the advances in fertility science and the presence of sperm donors, two women could make a baby and share the joy of raising a child together. And, society, while not fully embracing the notion, was becoming more and more receptive to the idea that two men or two women could make vows to commit their lives together.

I said to her, "I am starved let us start our meal. We can continue to talk as we eat." And I reached over to signal to send the first course. It would be a cold cucumber soup with dill. I was ready for it.

I decided to start the conversation in the direction I had chosen. I looked over at Lynne and asked her if I could ask her a personal question. I was still a bit unclear about just how deep her relationship with her blonde girlfriend had been. She described it as casual and social, but something had interrupted it and I was curious why. Haley had come to visit Lynne when she was recovering from her accident and she was distraught with the idea that Lynne was lost to her forever. Were they lovers and Lynne had spooked when Haley approached her about love and commitment? Maybe that was why she immediately rejected the possibility of two women falling in love, because she had already broken that ground once. If she associated that trauma with her accident, no wonder she had lost it when I revealed that I knew about her broken relationship.

She replied to my question, "Anya, you apparently know more about me that anyone else right now, I am an open book to you. I'll let you know if I am uncomfortable with anything you ask me."

"You said you weren't in a serious relationship with Haley, but she acted like a distraught lover when I met her. Your family seemed to think her presence was inappropriate. I know you say you want to marry a man. But I am unclear; are you bisexual?"

I already knew the answer to that even if Lynne didn't. I just had to know how to make my approach.

"NO! Well, maybe; I don't know. Kissing Haley was just for fun until one night when we had been at a bar and, well: I drove her home and we weren't kissing for the attention. It freaked me out so much that I called a guy I had just met and we spent the night together. It happened about two months before my car accident and I haven't thought about it until tonight. I guess until tonight I have been running from it and repressing it."

I asked, "Did you have a boyfriend? "

"No, thankfully I cannot add cheating to the list of things that I carry around to beat myself up with." And she flashed a quick smile. This could not be comfortable for her, but she still had good humor.

Wait! She was pregnant when she had her accident. Two months, I did a quick calculation.

"So that means your baby was a product of that one-night stand? You poor poor little thing! To have to face that on your own. I quickly deduced that your family did not know and made sure that they never found out. Yes, there is a privacy law in effect, but you know as well as I do how people let confidential information slip through because of their ignorance. We estimated about 10 weeks based on the fetus and your body signs. I am so sorry for your loss."

My heart went out to her and I reached over and gently squeezed her forearm to let her know that I truly felt for her. No wonder she broke down when she was reminded about her recovery.

My words and gesture must have touched her because I noticed a tear well up in her eye, but this was controlled and not the raw emotion that I had witnessed earlier.

"Thank you. It is weird, but in a way I feel like I got a second chance. Having a baby would have made my life very difficult. I could have done it and I am sorry that I lost my baby. I love children but those circumstances absolutely sucked.