Beth dreamt erratic, fragmented dreams. Swimming in a warm ocean, running through a thick and damp forest, bushes scraping her back. She awoke with Mary’s arm draped over her stomach. Listening to her slow, even breathing, she suspected Mary’s dreams weren’t as Freudian as her own. According to Mary’s bedside clock, it was a little after six thirty. The sheets were still slightly damp from a shower they’d taken in the middle of the night.
Beth replayed how Mary had made love to her. They’d tossed and tangled the bed linens until the bedroom looked like a combat zone. The memory of Mary’s mouth on her neck, her breasts, and between her legs made her chest swim. Her unbridled passion had enabled Beth to let go completely, easing into incredibly erotic positions, opening up to Mary fully. She relived a moment when Mary had gone down on her. Close to coming, Beth had looked down to witness Mary’s expression change from lustful smiling to steamy concentration. They had even laughed and teased in between the intensity of their sex, until Beth’s climax shook them both.
Beth’s thoughts turned toward the day. They were scheduled for a six-mile run. And then what? What do two casual sex partners do once they get out of bed? She looked over at Mary, who was still sleeping soundly, the comforter rising and falling slowly over her chest. An awkward sensation niggled at her. With serious lovers, next mornings were easy to navigate. It went unsaid that they would spend the day together and then the next night, and so on. Just like one did in a committed relationship.
This, with Mary, was far from that. They’d spent two nights together, only getting out of bed yesterday to eat, wash, and go on their run. Beth felt like she was in some kind of limbo, ignoring the world outside these four walls. She felt panicky inside and her mind raced to make sense of what the hell she was doing.
How do you end casual sex?
Casual sex. Closing her eyes, Beth sighed heavily. The past forty-eight hours hadn’t felt casual to her. She touched her lips to Mary’s warm forehead, kissing her awake, and told her that she’d come by later for their run. The clock ticked past seven. Mary murmured something about the damp sheets and Beth slipped out of bed.
Alder was in the kitchen polishing a silver tea set when Beth returned. She didn’t seem surprised to see her walk in the front door so early on a Saturday morning.
Scrutinizing the task in front of her, Alder said, “There’s something very traditional about polishing silver. Reminds me of how calm my mother used to look when she’d sit at our family’s old kitchen table and polish. Calms me, too.”
Beth managed a smile and with a gentle pat on Alder’s back as she passed on her way outside to the back porch. She sat on the top step, staring at the flowers, resting her head in her hands. She barely heard Alder’s step behind her and jumped when she spoke.
“From the looks of you, last night was either really great or really horrible.”
Beth squinted up toward the older woman, who held two mugs of coffee. She scooted over, making room on the step. “It was a little of both.”
Alder sat next to her. “Was Mary not behaving herself?”
Beth took the mug she was offered. “Well, no, but that was the really great part of the evening.”
Alder chuckled. “When did it get horrible?”
Beth looked out over the flowers, her jaw set tight. “It’s just not me, Alder.”
“What’s not you?”
“I’m not some… feral female who runs around having casual sex. Mary is. I’m not.”
“And that pisses you off?” Alder asked.
“Yes, it pisses me off. Mary’s not my type. She’s spontaneous and wild. I can’t have that in my life. I should be looking for a more stable woman. I want someone who’s grounded. I want a trusting, real relationship, like the one I had with Stephanie.”
Alder spoke slowly as if trying to understand what she was saying as she said it. “The Stephanie who cheated on you?”
Beth clamped her mouth shut. How “real” was that relationship? “Like Stephanie but not Stephanie,” she corrected. “And certainly not Mary.”
“She was that bad, huh?” Alder looked astonished. “Both nights? Not even an improvement with practice?”
Beth felt a rush of heat whip her cheeks. “Mary was great. It’s just that one minute I’m having this unbelievable time with her, and the next, I’m running away. I don’t know what I should do. I feel like shit. It’s been fantastic, but then,” she paused, thinking, “everything got strange this morning. I couldn’t think. I knew why I was with Mary, but I also didn’t know why. I feel like I’m in a fog bank and I can see vague shapes, but everything’s a blurred jumble.”
“What do you want, Beth?” It was a simple question.
“I want a normal relationship.”
“Normal,” Alder echoed.
“I have a certain kind of woman in mind,” Beth said truthfully. “And Mary’s not it.”
Mary answered her door looking way too sexy. She was wearing boxer shorts and a tank top. Her hair was ruffled from sleep. She grinned sleepily and took Beth’s hand as naturally as if they’d known each other a lifetime. She led her inside to sit on the couch.
“Mmm. I’ve been asleep since you left.” Mary squeezed her eyes shut, rubbing them with both hands. “Tell the world to go away.”
Beth tensed. This conversation was going to be difficult. “I can’t. It’s clamoring at the door.”
“If it doesn’t have some righteous coffee in hand, tell it to go the hell away.” Mary stretched, then let her gaze rest on Beth’s face. She looked more beautiful than ever. Her cheeks still had a faint trace or two of sheet lines, and Mary had never seen such sultry bedroom eyes. “How’s your back?”
Beth blushed. “It’s fine.”
“I really am sorry.” Mary shook her head. “But you were driving me crazy, and I needed something to hold on to.”
But what I really want to do is tell you that I’m falling for you. Beth’s soft kiss upon her forehead when she’d woken earlier had felt wonderfully loving. Mary hadn’t wanted her to leave that morning, or the one before. And, more significantly, she realized she hadn’t wanted Beth to leave at all.
“It’s okay,” Beth said.
“Last night was beautiful.” Mary trembled inside. She needed to tell Beth what her heart was screaming. But she wasn’t fully awake and she didn’t want to blurt out some garbled cliché.
“Mary,” Beth said, before she could get herself together. “I want you to know where I’m coming from.”
Mary tilted her head, blinking.
“I don’t think we should train together,” Beth began. “I don’t know what got into me. The time we’ve spent together has been great. Better than great. It’s just that I’m not… I mean, I can’t just fall into this. With you. Shit. What happened last night and the night before can’t happen again. Please know that you are wonderful. But I can’t do this. And I think our training together will just make it worse.”
Mary tried to remain still. Beth didn’t want this? “I’m not quite sure what you mean, Beth. You mean the sex?”
“Yes. I don’t jump into things like this. You may be okay with it, but I’m not. Only three months ago, I was in a stable relationship, and now I’m having sex in an alley. It’s not reasonable, you know?”
Mary’s heart sank. “I don’t have to agree with you, but I think I understand what you’re saying.”
“This is not what I want my life to be like.”
“I didn’t think that we were planning your life, Beth.”
How can she be that calm? Beth wondered with frustration. Obviously it came with the wild, spur-of-the-moment lifestyle. And as much as she was feeling attracted to Mary, she didn’t want to be her current spur-of-the-moment. She stood, feeling absolutely wretched. “I really like you, Mary, but I can’t do this.”
Mary stood slowly and then reached for her. With her warm hands on Beth’s arms, she said, “I won’t say I’m sorry for the alley. Or my bedroom. But I am sorry you feel that way.”
“Being with you was incredible.” Beth fought imminent tears. “I imagine that sounds like bullshit right now.”
“It doesn’t. I was right there feeling you when we made love.”
Beth turned and walked to the door, looking back at Mary as she unlocked it. She opened her mouth but no words came. She lowered her head, glancing sadly at the running shoes lined up in the hallway, and then walked out.
Mary stared at the door, wishing it would open again with Beth walking back in. She reached up and massaged her forehead. She doesn’t want you. Let her go.
Maybe it was for the best. She’d probably let herself get caught up in the excitement of being around a woman she couldn’t seem to get enough of. Even though she’d sensed a reticence in Beth at first, she recognized a beautiful soul. And the more Beth held back her true spirit, the more Mary yearned to get closer to it. Beth wasn’t naturally unfriendly or standoffish, as she’d first appeared. But she was scared, and Mary couldn’t blame her. She knew how daunting it was to put oneself out there. She’d lived it for years. In her own life, spending time in bed with a woman didn’t mean that she wanted to pursue anything with her afterward. Until Beth. And Beth had just told her they had no future.
Just when Mary was feeling quite the opposite.
A prickling sensation teased the back of her neck and she turned toward the living room and saw its origin. She walked over to the mantel and picked up the photograph of Gwen. Touching the image, she smiled, remembering the cabin in which they’d spent two wonderful weeks. She trailed her finger across the glass, letting it come to rest over Gwen’s heart.
“I love you,” she whispered and carried the photograph to the cabinet by her kitchen telephone. Tenderly, she laid the memory inside the top drawer and then pushed it shut.
A stab of despair twisted inside Beth.
She got her car and realized that she had nowhere to go. The pain of being cheated on by her ex was one thing, but this was just as bad. Mary had done nothing but treat her lovingly and with tremendous kindness. Walking away had left Beth with an empty well of dark, gloomy nothingness.
Driving aimlessly, she gravitated toward the wharf and found a parking spot close to Ghirardelli Square. She walked to the boats and piers close to Alioto’s Restaurant. In a covered walkway, in the heart of the wharf commerce, she purchased some steaming hot clam chowder. It was served in a hollowed-out round sourdough loaf and she cradled it close as she walked around the dock, past the moored fishing boats to the pier beyond.
Finding an empty bench off the main drag, she sat on top of the backrest, her feet on the bench seat. She set the bowl in her lap and unwrapped a spoon and napkin from a cellophane envelope. The soup was fresh and creamy. It coated her throat with warmth but she had trouble enjoying the flavor. She looked out over the water in front of her, and the fishermen in the boats below, then up to the sky. Just under the blanket of fog, at least ten or twelve seagulls floated, wings open to the ever-present San Francisco breeze. They hovered aloft, hopeful for a handout.
Beth took a breath so deep she felt her shoulders rise and fall with the entire weight of her life. Eight days before, she’d rolled into town, weary-eyed and beaten after driving all night. She’d escaped three years of deception, and she would never tolerate such behavior from a partner again.
What was wrong with her? She’d enjoyed every minute with Mary. But Mary would never be someone she could have a committed lovership with. Mary was looking for an affair. Beth, even after all her disillusionment, was looking for a relationship.
A seagull swiftly swooped down, squawking loudly. Starting, Beth almost dropped her sourdough bowl as the gull alit on the pier railing in front of her. She flung the now empty bread bowl onto the ground and watched as the gull virtually attacked it. It knew that its time alone with the feast would be short-lived. In a moment, seven or eight of the breed would crash land almost on top of him, vying for the bowl, squawking and flapping at each other.
Beth lifted her eyes to the glistening ripples in the bay. She had done the right thing, breaking off the affair before things really got out of hand. I’m not that person, she asserted. I don’t just fuck in an alley and act all casual. As soon as she went back to L.A., Mary would find someone else.
I can’t be that cavalier about things. Shit!
“Casual sex isn’t serious sex,” she argued out loud to the seagulls.
