Bidding War (10 page)

She started squealing into the phone at me. "Am I forgiven?"

"Yes. I know it's late. Can you come over?"

"Are you okay?"

"I need to talk to you. If it's too late, can you come tomorrow?"

"Twenty minutes."

"Front door is unlocked. I'll be taking a cold shower."

She started squealing again before she hung up.

I ended up skipping the shower but climbed into silk pajamas and a robe. I didn't want to lose the feel of Moira's fingers on my arms and her warm body against my back or the taste of her lips on my mouth.

I made a pot of herbal tea then curled up on my sofa, waiting for Sam. I stared into space, thinking about the night and trying to figure out what was going on with me. Sam arrived a few minutes later and let herself in the front door.

She saw me sitting on the sofa.

"Did you shower?"

"I decided I didn't want to wash the feelings off."

She began squealing again, then bounced over to the sofa and plopped down next to me, hugging me. "Tell me everything!"

I poured her a cup of tea first, setting the pot down where she could reach it, then told her about the date. She sat next to me, practically bouncing with joy.

I told her every little detail. "Oh, do you want a truffle?"

"Gimme!"

I pointed to my shopping bag near the front door. "In there. You can have two."

She popped off the sofa and grabbed the shopping bag, bringing it back with her, and began pawing through it. She found the truffles and took them out. When she opened the container, I described each one. She picked one and bit into it, a look of appreciation lighting her face.

"You made this?" she said between bites.

I nodded. "Well, Moira and I together made them."

Sam finished the truffle then went poking through them to pick another one. She finally settled on one and made blissful sounds while eating it. "You can make more of these for me," she said.

I laughed and told her my agreement with Moira.

Sam ate the second truffle slowly, then got up and visited the bathroom to wash her hands. She came back and plopped down on the sofa, sitting crosswise and looking at me. "Am I really forgiven?"

"Completely. But Sam, I'm so confused."

"Oh honey, why?"

"I didn't want her to leave."

Her eyes grew wide and she glanced towards the bedroom. I nodded. "You can't tell Bonnie! I'll never fend her off if she finds out I'm susceptible."

"You're now wondering if you're gay?"

"I've never had a guy make me feel like she does." I thought about it. "And my time with Gwendolyn on Saturday was nicer than any recent dates I've had."

Sam's expression grew serious. "Okay, I understand now. First, they're both fabulous. Gwendolyn is a little career focused
. She's amazing, and I know you'll have a nice time with her. I don't know if you'll react to her though."

I nodded.

"But you might. I just don't know. She's exceedingly good in bed." She paused. "Well, according to Bonnie. Bonnie gave her an eleven."

"I thought Bonnie's scale only went to ten."

"It does." Sam snickered. "Moira though. We told you, she's exceedingly sweet, and she has a reputation for knowing how to touch you. She's an exceptional woman, and if you're wondering if all lesbian dates are like yours tonight, I can tell you absolutely they aren't. Your date with Moira was exceptional by any standards. Partly that's because you two fit so well." She paused. "I swear, I didn't tell her you liked to cook."

I laughed. "It would have been okay if you had," I replied. I reached over and hugged her. "I'm sorry I got so mad at you."

"Don't be," she said. "I deserved it. We're all better?"

I nodded. "But don't tell Bonnie. I want her to suffer for a while. And absolutely do not tell her about my date!"

"If she asks, I'll tell her you said you had a nice time."

"She's going to ask if I kissed her."

Sam said, "Yep. Moira got a sweet but chaste kiss. I'll prepare Suzanne with the official story but will need to tell her enough to explain why I had to come over at midnight on a work night."

"I'm sorry about that."

"Are you kidding? Don't be. I'm so happy for you."

I thought about everything she said. "So you don't think I'm just discovering I'm a lesbian?"

"I think you should look up the word pansexual." She smiled. "I think you're responding to Moira, who happens to be a woman, not a woman who happens to be Moira." She paused. "You set yourself up for this by accepting more than light flirting. If you hadn't let her touch you, you would still have had a nice time, but you wouldn't have asked me to come over."

I thought about it. "I'm glad I did." I smiled at her. "Thank you."

"You are welcome. Does this mean you'll do it again next year?"

I laughed. "Moira asked that, too. Let me get through this year first."

She smiled. "When is your next date?"

"Gwendolyn on Friday for dinner and dancing. Moira all day Saturday. She said to expect an adventure and asked how adventurous I was. She asked how I felt about jumping out of airplanes."

"Jumping out of them?"

I nodded. "She said that wasn't what she had in mind, but she was using it as a measure of my sense of adventure."

"What did you tell her?"

"That I've always been curious and wasn't afraid of flying."

Sam smiled.

"You know something. Spill!
" I demanded.

"Nope. Not mine to tell.
"

I did a fake pout, which just caused Sam to laugh and sneak a look at the truffles. "Seriously! You're asking me to bribe you?"

"Oh. No. Sorry. I'm not going to tell you. It wouldn't be fair to Moira."

I thought about it. "You're right. But now I'm going to wonder all the more."

Sam paused. "You can trust her."

"I figured that out." I paused. "If I send truffles home with you, will you share fairly with Suzanne?"

"Hell no!" she said. "Mine, all mine." I gave her The Look, and she said in a small voice, "May I take one to her?" I nodded.

Sam got off the sofa and headed to the kitchen for a baggie. She very carefully selected two truffles, grinning at me. "How much of this may I tell Suzanne?"

"If she swears to secrecy, whatever you want."

Sam reached out for my hand and pulled me to my feet. She wrapped me in a huge hug before heading for the door. "Thank you for calling me over," she said. "I was dying to know how it went. I was so afraid it would go badly."

"Clearly it didn't."

At work the next day, I received flowers. It was a spring bouquet with a variety of flowers including two beautiful red roses as the centerpieces. The card said, "Dearest Pamela. Thank you so much. The roses are for the kisses. The rest of the flowers are for the touches. I had the best date I've had in a very long time. Moira."

I waited for a break and called her. "Hello, Pamela," she said when she answered.

"They're beautiful. Thank you."

"You're welcome. I'm glad you had a nice time."

"I did. Is this a bad time?"

"No. Should I be sitting down?"

I laughed. "I just wanted to hear your voice for a few minutes, if that's not too forward. I have an appointment coming in shortly, so I won't keep you too long."

We talked for several minutes. She promised to call Thursday evening with directions for Saturday.
My appointment arrived, and I had to hang up.

* * *

Gwendolyn called Wednesday evening. I hadn't programmed her number into my phone yet. I was curled up on the sofa watching a movie, wrapped in a blanket. I paused the movie and answered. "Hello?"

"It's Gwendolyn Robbins," she said.

"Gwendolyn," I said, smiling. "Hi."

"Did I catch you at a bad time?"

"No," I said. "Just watching a movie. How was your day?"

"Surgery," she said. "I had a femoral popliteal bypass followed by an angioplasty.
Then I had rounds and several consultations."

I paused.

"Sorry," she said quietly.

"Don't be. What are
those?"

Her tone changed, becoming more formal. "The popliteal artery is in your leg. It starts shortly above your knee and branches into two more arteries below your knee. A bypass is needed when atherosclerosis builds sufficiently to critically reduce blood flow in the legs."

"Um. Okay," I said.

"You don't really care about this," she said.

"I do, but you deal with this all day. You don't need to explain it."

She paused, not responding.

"Gwendolyn, I was offering you an out if you didn't want to explain, but I'd love to understand."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

She took a breath. "All right. Atherosclerosis is a buildup of hard, fatty material in the arteries. It reduces the blood flow capacity and can lead to complete blockage."

"Like a clogged pipe."

"Exactly like a clogged pipe," she said. "A bypass involves replacing the blocked artery with a rep
lacement. Sometimes we take donor tissue from elsewhere in the body, but the procedure today used an artificial graft."

"Is it difficult?"

"It can be, but I do these a lot, so they are routine."

"It sounds amazing. What was the other one?"

"Angioplasty. It's for treating a similar problem and is far less invasive. We make a narrow incision and insert a tube into the artery, commonly the femoral artery. We can then guide the tube to other locations in the body. It's pretty fascinating. There is a small balloon at the end of the tube, and we can blow the balloon up with water pressure. It expands and crushes the blockage."

I paused then said, "I think I start to understand why you can feel like God."

She laughed nervously. "I try to fight that, but it can be hard. I have my hands inside someone's body, replacing body parts. I feel their blood flowing through the arteries under my fingers." She paused. "Tell the truth. Did you really want to know all that?"

"Yes. It's fascinating."

"In small doses?"

I laughed. "Perhaps. I can only absorb so much in one sitting."

"How was your day?"

"I had a wonderful day, thank you," I said. "I am so looking forward to seeing you Friday. You aren't calling to postpone, are you?"

"No," she said. "Calling to confirm."

"Good. I want to thank you for being so kind on Saturday."

"Were you expecting to be thrown to the lions?"

"Pretty much," I said, laughing. "I was expecting someone like Bonnie."

She didn't say anything at that.

"Bonnie is a friend," I said. "And I love her to pieces. But she's pushy. I can't tell if she's teasing, but there are days I have to fend her off."

Gwendolyn still didn't say anything. I sighed. "I'm screwing this explanation up."

"I can be pretty pushy. Focused might be another word."

"How many times would I have to say 'no' before you would back off?"

"Once. Maybe twice, if I wasn't sure you were serious."

"Bonnie thinks 'no' means 'try harder'."

Gwendolyn laughed. "With a lot of women it does. Is she just teasing you?"

"I really don't know, and I can't get a straight answer from her about it. There have been a few times I let her do more than usual, just to see if she was bluffing. I have no evidence to suggest she's been bluffing."

"Oh, I think I want to know what the usual might be."

I grimaced. "The usual is nothing. More than the usual is not swatting her hand when she tries to caress my ass."

"And has she kissed you?"

"Not in the romantic sense, but I've had to fend off a few of those. I'm not sure why I put up with it, but she's an amazing workout partner for me. We like the same exercises and have similar stamina. And when she's not trying to get me out of my clothes, she's a fun guest at our parties. If I've had a bad day, she's really good at breaking me out of it, and if I'm in a sufficiently poor mood, she stops all her shit and is just a really good friend."

"You know she and I-"

"La la la la la," I said into the phone.

Gwendolyn laughed.

"Sam told me Bonnie said you're an eleven," I said. "And her scale only goes to ten."

"Really?" she said, her voice purring.

"Like Ms. Surgeon needed another reason for a power trip," I added.

"Well, I do have a delicate touch." She paused. "I always thought women found me too, well, surgical in my love making."