Bliss (34 page)

Sinclair screamed and took off running toward her father's
house. She flew up the badly paved street, almost breaking
her ankle in a pothole, but kept going, dashed through the
gate, under the crape myrtle trees sprinkling their lavendercolored blossoms in the late morning air, and up the gravel
walkway. Hunter caught her when she stopped to unlock the
door, fumbling at the keyhole with fingers that shook from
her uncontrollable giggles. Hunter pinned her against the
door, pressing her belly against Sinclair's back.

"Do you know what funny girls get?"

Sinclair laughed and finally slid the key in. "No, but can I
please find out soon?"

The lock turned but she didn't open the door. It felt so
good to have her lover's body against her, to feel her warm
length and be surrounded by her smoky sage and sandalwood scent.

"Let's take this inside, then. I don't want to give a show to
the people passing by."

Sinclair stumbled over the threshold and pulled Hunter
after her. She locked the door behind them, shoved the keys
in her jeans pocket and jumped on Hunter. The other woman
gasped her surprise, but quickly slid her palms under Sinclair's
ass as Sinclair wrapped her legs around her waist and kissed
her, slanting her mouth hungrily across the receptive lips.

"Bedroom," Sinclair muttered. Her breasts ached beneath
the abrasive cotton of the T-shirt. They needed the softness of
the other woman's skin, her mouth.

Hunter stumbled through the beaded curtains that separated the sitting room from the narrow hallway leading to
the bedrooms. The beads knocked together, discordant and
loud. Some caught in Hunter's hair, but she impatiently
pulled away, turning right into Sinclair's temporary bedroom
and slammed the door behind them. The buttons on Hunter's
shirt separated from their holes under Sinclair's quick fingers.
Her hands found the hard-softness of the dark woman's nipples and she sighed. They fell backward on the bed with
Hunter pinned under Sinclair's body and ravening hands,
gasping under the greedy mouth and at the fingers that pinched
and stroked her nipples. She tugged at Sinclair's zipper. They
didn't hear the door open, but the high squeak of surprise
and quickly drawn breath warned Sinclair.

"I can't believe this!"

They jumped apart, guiltily. Or at least Sinclair did, rolling
off the supine Hunter to sit on the bed. The dark woman
slowly pulled the edges of her shirt together and stood.

"Hullo, Lydia. What an unexpected surprise."

Sinclair felt herself flush wine red. Her face prickled with
embarrassment.

"What the fuck is this, Sinclair?" Lydia glared at her sister
before turning to the other woman. "Hunter?"

Her ex-girlfriend shrugged and began to button her shirt.
"This is definitely not the best way for you to have found out."

"What do you mean the best way? This shouldn't even be
happening." Lydia took in Sinclair's flushed face and the
hard points of her nipples visible through her T-shirt. Then
she turned around and walked out.

Sinclair stood up to follow but Hunter stood in her way.

"That probably wouldn't be the best idea," she said.

"Then what-" Sinclair sank back to the bed. "I don't
know."

Outside, they heard a car start up and drive away.

"Give her a little time." Hunter's mouth twisted into a grimace. "Sorry about all this."

"It's not your fault. I should have told her before now."

"Well, you know hindsight and all that." Hunter sat down
beside Sinclair. "Are you all right?"

"Not really." Sinclair sighed. "I'm going to talk to her
later."

"Tomorrow."

"Tomorrow," she agreed, collapsing backward on the bed.
"That was fucked."

"Do you want me to go?"

"Yes. No. Shit, I don't know." She turned to look at
Hunter. "I feel awful."

"Not unexpected. Tell you what, I'll go, you relax and try
not to think too hard about this mess."

"So you're just going to leave me?"

A tiny smile curved Hunter's mouth. "I'll keep you company if you want me to."

"Yes. Distract me."

Hunter looked at her trembling lower lip and the frustrated tears that lurked at the corner of her eyes. "Come on,"
she said. "Put on your bath suit. We'll go for a swim and wear
you out so you won't have to think about this so much."

"That sounds better than the initial abandonment idea."

"Drama queen."

Hunter packed Sinclair up with sandwiches and drinks
into the jeep and took her to the beach.

"I'm miserable. This outing isn't working."

"Well, you look gorgeous and edible," Hunter said, nibbling playfully on her ear.

She didn't look so bad herself in the pale blue bikini she'd
pulled from the backseat of her jeep. It was a tiny thing made
up of string and three pieces of scrap that showed off her lean
body with its sweet swell of breasts and casually worn muscles. It almost made Sinclair forget about Lydia's untimely interruption. Almost. Then Hunter pulled her into the cold
water and her mind became completely focused on other
things.

The next day, she showed up at her sister's house. The
Cadillac sat in the driveway and the savory smells of a curry
dinner floated outside, teasing her nose. Sinclair rang the
doorbell. She thought she heard someone approach the door,
but when it remained closed she knocked again.

"Lydia, open up. I know you're in there."

Still no answer. Sinclair ignored the pinch of annoyance
she felt and instead lay down in the hammock draped across
her sister's elegant, colonial-style verandah. This was a peaceful middle-class neighborhood. The Blue Mountains soared
just behind the house, the only trace of untamed nature in the
manicured surroundings. When Sinclair had first met her sister she was surprised that Lydia lived here, but now she could
see how the other woman fit into this carefully cultivated setting. Sinclair glanced at her watch.

"This is stupid, Lydia." She got up and knocked on the
door again. "You have to talk to me." Her fist pounded the
door in a loud, continuous staccato rhythm that jerked
shockwaves of pain into her wrist and hand. The door flew
open, startling Sinclair.

"I don't have to do shit." Her sister stood in the doorway
in shorts and a T-shirt with a food-splattered spatula in one
hand.

"Are you throwing a tantrum?"

"Why don't you just go back to Papa's house and leave me
the hell alone?"

"Because we need to talk about this."

"I don't think that's necessary. You're fucking Hunter. End
of story."

"That's not the end of it." Sinclair's voice rose. "Stop acting like a child."

"Oh, for fuck's sake." Lydia looked down her driveway to
the empty street. "Come in. I don't want my neighbors watching the dykes brawl on my front lawn."

"Thanks. I think." Sinclair stepped inside the house.

Lydia slammed the door behind them and walked through
the living room to the kitchen. "I can't believe you came to
my house," she muttered.

"What else was I supposed to do when you wouldn't answer the phone?"

"Take a hint and not try to contact me at all." Lydia
dropped the spatula in the sink and turned down the flame
on the stove. "So you're here. Now talk."

Sinclair released a tense breath. "I'm sorry about what happened yesterday. That's not how I wanted you to find out."

"Like I said, there shouldn't have been anything for me to
find out. After I confided in you, told you how I felt, you still
went to her." Lydia narrowed her eyes. "Is that how they do
things in America?"

Not again. "Stop using America as an excuse for every
fucking thing that's wrong with us, with this family! I fucked
her because I wanted to. My Americaness does not factor
into this. You didn't want her, and I did. It's as simple as
that."

"What about family loyalty?"

"When was it ever disloyal to have a little friendship with
your sister's unwanted ex?"

"Friendship?" Lydia gave a short bark of laughter. "That's
a good one." She paced away from Sinclair. "If it was all so
blameless then why did you keep it from me?"

Sinclair opened her mouth but nothing came out. The two
women looked at each other.

"I should rip your lying tongue out," Lydia said.

"Now just wait a damn minute. I don't go for any of this
fighting over a sex partner bullshit."

"Then why did you touch her? You knew it would have to
come to this."

"No, I didn't," Sinclair said. "If I knew you'd threaten to
cut out my fucking tongue and act like a psycho over a
woman you didn't want, then I wouldn't have touched her."

They both realized that she was lying at the same time. Lydia's look was poisonous. Sinclair shook her head, laughing ruefully. "OK, I take it back." She released a steadying
breath. "Do you really hate her that much?" Her question
was soft, barely above a whisper.

"I don't hate Hunter. I love her."

"Is this how you show your love?"

"Yes," Lydia hissed. "She deserves better than a cheap imitation of what she can never have."

Sinclair jerked back in shock. It wasn't like she hadn't
thought the same thing herself, but hearing her sister say the
words made it hurt worse. "You had your chance, Lydia.
You had Hunter and because she'd been with someone you
didn't like, you threw her away like an old toy. She's worth
more than that. And I show her."

"I bet you do." They glared at each other across the narrow space.

"Don't worry. It's not like I'm going to marry her and take
her back to the States with me."

Lydia gasped as if the idea had never occurred to her. That
someone could physically take Hunter away.

"Don't flatter yourself into thinking that that's going to
happen," she said. "You're nothing more than a piece of ass,
a way to scratch the itch that I didn't."

"Don't be crass, Lydia. It doesn't suit you."

"What the fuck would you know about what suits me?"

"OK." Sinclair backed up. "I see that this isn't getting us
anywhere. I'm going to leave now."

"Good riddance. I don't know why you came here in the
first place." She turned back to the stove. "You know your
way out."

Sinclair walked out and didn't look back.

n the night of the dinner party, Sinclair helped Nikki
cook. She didn't know half of what her stepmother was
making, having been put to work chopping, pureeing, and
being the general kitchen slave. Nikki knew how her discussion with Lydia had gone two days before and had spent that
time trying to distract her since Hunter was off somewhere
earning her computer scientist's salary.

Victor was quiet that evening, sitting behind his newspaper or overseeing Xavier's homework. Before Hunter was
due to arrive he went to water the plants in the yard.

"Is Papa OK?" Sinclair looked up from setting the dinner
table. They had expanded the table to its full width and unearthed one of the two extra chairs that went with it.

"He's fine," Nikki said as she wiped down the kitchen
counter with a wet rag. "I think he talked to Lydia, though.
She might have told him that she was mad at you but not
why. It's not like she ever let him know that she and Hunter
were girlfriend and girlfriend."

"True. But he acknowledged them as a couple. Remember
how he asked about Hunter at the cookout?"

Nikki slid a fresh jug of carrot juice in the fridge. "You
worry too much. Everything will be fine."

Hunter came at seven on the dot, dressed in her best jeans
and a button-down linen shirt. She brought wine for the grown-ups and ginger biscuits for Xavier. Sinclair greeted her
at the door.

"Hey. Right on time."

"I didn't dare be late today." She kissed Sinclair lightly on
the mouth. "How is everything going?"

"Good, I think. Lydia may have talked to Papa and badmouthed me but I'm not entirely sure."

"Nothing to be done about that. We're here to eat and be
social and be happy."