“Well, I know you Catholics like to go to services early. You just weren’t used to our schedule,” Fanny said.
Lizbeth started to say she wasn’t Catholic and then remembered the sign of the cross she made at the end of the service. She just nodded in agreement.
Fanny continued, “I guess that was the Lord’s way of sayin’ you need sumtin’ good t’eat. You’re too skinny.”
Gray fell in to step with them as they turned towards home. She chuckled, adding, “Yep, the Lord works in mysterious ways.” She winked at Lizbeth.
Lizbeth leaned into the older woman and said with a sigh, “Yes, yes he does.”
#
The Lord may not have worked a miracle, but Fanny’s fried chicken, mashed potatoes, sliced garden tomatoes, and corn on the cob did. Lizbeth ate until her stomach felt completely full. It always hit her like that if she let her sugar levels drop. Now, her body demanded food and as much as it could hold. The whole thing still embarrassed Lizbeth. Fainting like that in front of the congregation would ensure she would be the talk of the village before Sunday dinner had been digested.
“I still can’t believe I fainted. I mean, I know that it’s a distinct possibility if I don’t eat, but I haven’t just dropped like that in years,” Lizbeth said and then took another swig of sweet iced tea.
“Maybe all that sun yesterday made you weaker,” Gray said. “Speaking of that, don’t go home without some aloe plant. I’ll just give you a pot of your very own and you can keep it growing.”
Lizbeth was able to smile at Gray now, without thinking the fainting spell would return. The food had fortified her. She said, “Thank you. I could definitely use it.” Lizbeth stood up to take her plate to the sink, saying, “And thank you so much, Miss Fanny, for this fine dinner. How on earth did you manage all this and attend church, too? I couldn’t even remember to eat breakfast.”
Gray stood and took the plate from Lizbeth. “Sit back down, you are a guest. After this visit, you are no longer a visitor and will be expected to fend for yourself, so enjoy it.” She poured more tea in Lizbeth’s glass.
Fanny chuckled. “I’ve been gettin’ up afore the birds my whole life, so I cook our Sunday meal in the mornin’ and leave it in the oven to stay warm.”
Gray was emptying the table of dishes and bowls. She chimed in, “I’ve been trying to tell her to use the microwave to warm the food, before we come home from church and have to ask God for a new house, ‘cause she’s burned this one down to the foundation with Sunday dinner.”
“I been doin’ that longer than you been alive and this house is still here and so are you,” Fanny shot back.
Gray teased the old woman, “Drime. You were cooking on a woodstove when I came along. You didn’t have an oven to leave the food in.”
Fanny scoffed, “Some folks sure can say a word.”
Lizbeth was enjoying the banter between the two other women. Fanny had just told Gray she had a big mouth and talked too much. Lizbeth was so glad she studied the idioms and understood the conversation. If she hadn’t she wouldn’t know half of what they were saying. Fanny and Lizbeth remained at the table while Gray did the dishes. Lizbeth used the time that Gray’s back was to her to examine her thoroughly without being seen.
Gray’s haircut matched the one worn by Jethro Gibbs, Mark Harmon’s character on ‘NCIS.’ Not the strictly marine buzz, but the one with the longer hair on the top, short on the sides. In fact, Lizbeth thought, if Mark Harmon had a beautiful twin sister she would look exactly like Gray. Maybe that was it. Lizbeth had always found Mark to be exceedingly sexy. She was transferring the lust for People Magazine’s former sexiest man of the year to this woman who reminded her of him. That’s all it was, she decided, and congratulated herself on solving the problem.
The celebration didn’t last long. She listened only enough to keep up with the story Fanny was telling, but continued to look at Gray whenever the other two women were distracted. Her eyes traveled down Gray’s back and locked on Gray’s butt. She had a nice tight, rounded one. Her tanned legs were smooth, with tight muscles, and Lizbeth flashed on those legs wrapped around her. “Oh God,” Lizbeth thought, “I’ve become a sex maniac overnight.” She felt the blood rush to her face.
Fanny’s voice broke her from her terror. “Good, I see some color comin’ back in your cheeks. You must be feelin’ better.”
Lizbeth smiled, glad to be distracted from her thoughts of Gray. “Yes, I do feel so much better, but I think I need a nap. When I let my sugar get low like that, it makes me tired.” She needed an excuse to go home. Lizbeth didn’t want to be in this tiny room with Gray anymore. She was afraid of what her mind might think of next. She clearly had no control over it.
Gray turned around, drying her hands on a towel. “Are you sure you’re okay now? I’ve got to go run a tour in a minute, but I’m sure Fanny wouldn’t mind the company.”
“Of course I would rather stay here and chat with you, Fanny, but I really do need a nap. I’ll be good as new in a couple of hours. Maybe I’ll come back later.”
“Come on back and let me know how you made out,” Fanny said.
Lizbeth thanked the O’Neal women again for their hospitality and the fantastic food. Gray walked Lizbeth to the front porch, carrying a small pot containing an aloe plant. It was the first time they had ever really been alone together. It made Lizbeth nervous. She made small talk to cover her anxiety.
“What kind of tours do you do?” Lizbeth asked.
“I run tourists to Portsmouth Island, show ‘em Teach’s Hole, Beacon Island, tell a few stories. It pays the bills.”
“That sounds like a wonderful job.”
Gray smiled. Her entire face lit up when she said, “Yes, I guess it is.”
The smile was holding Lizbeth hostage. She couldn’t leave Gray’s presence so she kept talking. “What do you do when the tourists leave?”
“I run a couple of pound nets and some crab pots so I can stay busy year round.”
“Now, that sounds like hard work,” Lizbeth commented.
Gray’s eyes sparkled. “It is, but then I get to be on the water every day. It’s worth it.”
The combination of her eyes and the smile on Gray’s face was more than Lizbeth could take at the moment. She took the potted plant from Gray, smiling back at her.
“Well, I don’t want to make you late.” Lizbeth paused, then added, “Thanks for catching me.”
Gray grinned. That mischievous little boy look took over her face. She leaned in close to Lizbeth. It became apparent to Lizbeth that Gray was fully aware of the predicament in which Lizbeth found herself. Gray was flirting with her.
“I didn’t so much catch you as help you down to the ground,” Gray said, and then added in a whisper, “I think maybe the catching will come later.”
Lizbeth was stunned for a moment. Gray knew Lizbeth was developing a crush on her. Was she that obvious? Was she sending signals she was unaware of? On the other hand, Gray flirting with her had sent Lizbeth’s heart into overdrive. It made Lizbeth feel things she had not felt in years. It appeared Gray was attracted to her as well. It had been a long time since Lizbeth felt wanted by someone, especially someone she wanted as well. Her brain kicked back into gear as she thought of what to say next. Lizbeth pushed the screen door open and stepped down on the first step. She paused and looked back up at Gray.
Lizbeth smiled flirtatiously, even though part of her brain was screaming, “Are you out of your mind?” She asked Gray, “What makes you think you can catch me?”
Gray grinned wider. “’Cause I caught you before.”
“Yes, and I ended up tied to a tree,” Lizbeth said.
Gray laughed. “Works for me.”
Lizbeth winked at Gray and said, in her best pirate imitation, “Aye matey, but you might be needin’ a bit more rope, this time.”
Gray’s laughter followed her across the street.
#
Lizbeth needed someone to talk to, but there was no one she would trust with this. Lizbeth and her daughter were extremely close. Although they shared everything about each of their lives, calling her daughter to tell her, “Your mother might be a big ol’ lesbian,” wasn’t something Lizbeth was willing to do. Mazie was the last person about whom Lizbeth wanted to think. With Mazie on her mind, Lizbeth began to reflect on the consequences of any kind of a sexual relationship with Gray.
Lizbeth knew lesbians. She wasn’t that sheltered. The ones she was friendly with were professional women, whose private lives were not the topic of dinner conversation. Molly Kincaid, a very successful Durham attorney and well-known lesbian, remained one of her closest friends, but they never really talked about Molly’s love life. Molly was a very private person. Lizbeth met several of Molly’s girlfriends, but knew next to nothing about her relationships. Lizbeth felt sorry now that she had never asked Molly if she was in love, or if her heart had been broken.
What would Molly say if Lizbeth called her? Would she be able to help, or would she laugh and say, “You’re on your own?” Molly was a lesbian and Lizbeth was afraid to talk to her. How was Lizbeth supposed to handle being a lesbian if she couldn’t talk to one? Then again, being attracted to one woman did not make her a lesbian, did it? Lizbeth hadn’t even kissed Gray, although she had felt the strong pull to do so. Maybe the kiss would immediately turn her off and she would never look at another woman in her life. Somehow, she doubted that Gray O’Neal would turn her off.
Lizbeth made up her mind, found her cell phone, and called Molly at home.
Molly answered after only one ring. “Lizbeth, good to hear from you.”
“Hi Molly, I hope I’m not disturbing you. Are you busy?”
“Not too busy for you. What’s up?”
“First of all Molly, I owe you an apology. In all the years we’ve been friends I never once asked you if you were happy, if you were in love, and I am very sorry.”
Molly was intrigued. “Wow, what’s going on? I can hear it in your voice. Something’s happened.”
Lizbeth’s throat began to tighten as she fought back tears that seemed to come out of nowhere. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but I really need to know, are you happy being a lesbian?”
Molly laughed, relieving some of Lizbeth’s stress.
“Good Lord, Lizbeth, have you been drinking?”
“No, I swear, I am stone cold sober. I wish I was drunk, though.”
“Okay, strange as that question was, I’ll bite. Yes, I am happy being a lesbian and yes I’ve been in love, just not at the moment. What’s going on with you? Aren’t you supposed to be on Ocracoke?”
Lizbeth walked to the kitchen for a bottle of water. Her throat was so dry she could barely speak. “Yes, I’m on Ocracoke finishing my thesis.”
Molly waited during the pause and when no more information was forthcoming, she asked, “Did you change your major to Women’s Studies? What’s with the lesbian question? No dodging, spill.”
“No, I didn’t change my major.” Lizbeth took another drink of water, trying to get up the courage to say the words aloud. “I met a woman.”
Molly stifled a laugh when she said, “Oh my God, to whom do I owe the toaster?”
Lizbeth laughed, too. “I saw Ellen. I know what you’re saying. No one is owed any toaster.”
Molly snickered. “Not yet.”
“Be serious, I need help here,” Lizbeth pleaded, although she thought Molly was probably right.
Lizbeth could hear that Molly was trying not to laugh when she said, “Okay, what can I help you with?”
“Molly, you can’t breathe a word of this.”
“I’m a lawyer. I keep people’s darkest secrets,” Molly responded.
“Well, here goes.” Lizbeth paused and took in a deep breath, before continuing, “Like I said, I met this woman and I… I don’t know…I can’t…”
Molly jumped in. “Let me make this easier for you. You met this woman and suddenly out of nowhere, you felt an unexplainable attraction to her. You can’t get her out of your mind. Every time she walks in a room, your heart beats faster and you can’t keep your eyes off her. She makes you go weak in the knees.”
“I fainted.”
“Lizbeth, you did not. Did you?”
Lizbeth laughed at Molly’s reaction, adding, “Yep, fainted right into her arms, in front of the entire Ocracoke United Methodist Church congregation.”
Molly couldn’t believe it. “You fainted in her arms. That’s hilarious. What made you faint?”
“She touched me. Well, that and I hadn’t eaten breakfast.”
Molly was whipping herself with laughter. It took a minute before she could say anything. “Lizbeth, I hate to tell you this darlin’, but you have a mad crush on a woman. I hope she’s a lesbian. Straight girls can be so bothersome.”
“Oh, she’s gay all right. I saw her kissing this woman the other night and…”
Molly stopped laughing. “Whoa, she’s with another woman? That might not be the best place to start your lesbian career. That can get ugly.”
“Gray - that’s her name - is somewhat of a Casanova from what I can tell. That was just some tourist she picked up in the bar, a married one, I might add.”
Molly didn’t like the sound of that. “Lizbeth, don’t get hooked up with one of those love ‘em and leave ‘em types. Unless you’re just experimenting, then go for it. I gotta say though, I don’t think you would have fainted if you were not already head over heels with this one.”