Out Of This World (3 page)

†

I loved my little A-frame home. It reminded me of a ski chalet. It was only twelve hundred square feet, but the rustic nature suited my personality. A little rough around the edges, just like me, a socially awkward teen that’d turned into a recluse. I didn’t have the spit and polish that Sydney had, or even something remotely close to it.

Gizmo, my cat, was peering through the front window. Although I couldn’t hear her meowing a hello; as soon as I unlocked my front door, she scrambled to greet me. She was more like a dog than a cat.

Celeste followed me into the house and Gizmo gave her a greeting too, “Meow.”

“Cat?” She leaned down and stroked Gizmo’s silky fur.

I wished I were Gizmo right about now.

Celeste chuckled.

“Meet Gizmo, my cat. She’s a little hussy. She’ll cozy up to just about anyone if you keep petting her. Unlike most domestic cats, Gizmo never met a person she didn’t like. I don’t think she has a bit of independence or aloofness in any of her cells.”

Celeste smiled. “She is a beautiful cat, like her mother.”

No doubt my face was bright red again. I had to change the subject. “Um, do you have extra clothes or anything? Maybe a travel bag stashed somewhere?”

I noticed she carried a small backpack and I thought that was kind of odd because she definitely looked like a purse woman. Elegant women usually didn’t add a backpack as a fashion accessory.

“I have limited Earth clothing, but…” She unzipped her backpack and pulled a wad of cash that would choke an elephant. Holding it out she said, “I believe I can use this paper to obtain more.”

I hadn’t really noticed her clothing before because I was too busy drooling over her lavender eyes. I scrutinized her outfit and quickly assessed how expensive her black pants and tailored silk shirt looked. The clothes fit her slim physique like a second skin. I admired a nice body as much as everyone else does, but it’s always a person’s eyes and their smile that sucks me in. In that respect, Celeste had pretty much everyone else beat.

“I’m sure we can get you more clothes tomorrow. I don’t even want to know where you got the cash. Lucky for you I’m off on Saturdays and can take you shopping. My car’s not much, but it will get us to the store and back.” I recalled her
ship
comment. “I’m guessing, besides your ship, you don’t really have a different mode of transportation.”

I was proving to her that I could joke around just like everyone else. At least I preferred that notion to the other less acceptable one that I was feeding her delusion.

“Thank you, Bella. You are a kind and gracious host.”

“I’m not much of a cook, but I can whip us up some dinner if you’d like.” Actually, I am a pretty good cook, but no one likes a braggart so I chose not to share that fact.

Celeste tilted her head and frowned. “You have to whip your food before serving it?”

I laughed, thinking she was joking with me. “Funny. No I don’t even eat red meat, so I hope you don’t mind a vegetarian meal.”

“I would love to try your plant varieties,” she said.

“Okay spaghetti squash it is with a nice red sauce. I’ll fix us some arugula salad with craisens and goat cheese. That should complete the meal. Would you like a glass of wine?” I asked.

“Oh yes. I am not supposed to try the wine, but I have wanted to taste this beverage ever since I read about it.”

I put my finger to my lips. “Hmm, what should I choose? I’m sorry I’m not a huge wine connoisseur so I don’t really pay attention to what wine pairs well with pasta. I don’t really drink a lot of red wines, but I’ve read that Merlot goes well with red sauce so let’s try that.” I knew I was thinking out loud, but Celeste didn’t seem to mind about my confession regarding wines.

I pulled a 2008 Merlot from Cave B out of my mini wine refrigerator and retrieved my birthday indulgence, an electric wine opener. I always seemed to get bits of cork inside the bottle whenever I tried using the more conventional wine openers—not that I had much experience. I saw this gadget in a kitchen store and had to have it. It was a ridiculous purchase because I rarely had company and almost never opened any of the bottles of wine I had stacked in my closet and in the special wine cooler. I’d opened maybe three bottles of wine in my lifetime, except for the occasional wine I opened while cooking, all for my family. I had hoped that one day I would have a reason to entertain, and now I did.

Zzzzzzzz

The electric corkscrew buzzed as the cork magically rose inside the gadget and then distended back down. I set the bottle on the center island in my kitchen to let the wine breathe because I’d read that’s what you’re supposed to do with reds. I never needed more than four wine glasses. I pulled two of them from the cabinet and set them beside the Merlot.

Celeste was standing in my kitchen watching me and I felt like an idiot because I hadn’t even invited her to sit down and relax.

“Celeste, I’m sorry, why don’t you take a load off?” I pointed to the bar stool next to the butcher-block island where the wine was breathing its way to an acceptable taste.

“What load would you like to me take and where would you like it?” she asked.

I chuckled. She really did have a good sense of humor. Maybe I could learn something from her. Yep, I continued my rationalization that her peculiar comments were all part of her incredible sense of humor.

“Go ahead and sit down,” I directed.

She set her backpack next to the barstool, sat down, and watched me as I pulled out ingredients from my cupboards and clipped some herbs from the potted plants along my windowsill. The sauce was easy enough. All I needed to do was open up some canned tomatoes, crush some garlic, and add the wine and other fresh herbs. I tossed the ingredients into a large sauté pan and filled up a large pot with hot water. After placing the water and sauce on the stove to heat them both up, I turned to look at my guest.

I started getting a little nervous because she seemed to scrutinize my every move. I wondered why she appeared so focused on me. I normally fade into the background and the only time anyone ever bothered with me was to engage in a little all-American bullying. As an adult I’m now universally ignored, but as an adolescent I was the perfect lightning rod for teenage taunting with my coke bottle glasses, and braces complete with full headgear. Around the age of fifteen, I finally convinced my mom to let me wear contacts and my braces were also history, but that didn’t matter to those who’d already pegged me as the enemy.

It was never a good idea to handle a large knife when I was nervous. I tend to slice things not meant to be sliced—like my fingers. I would have to be extra careful about cutting up the spaghetti squash lest I carve up my hand. I carefully quartered the winter vegetable and then tossed it into the water without bothering to wait for it to boil.

I figured the wine had
breathed
enough and, if it hadn’t, I hoped Celeste wouldn’t notice. I needed a drink to calm my nerves. I poured the wine into our glasses, handed her a glass, and held mine up to meet hers.

“Cheers,” I said.

She tilted her head, but didn’t bring her glass up to mine. “Is there a competition we are cheering for?” she asked.

I chuckled. “Come on, just touch your glass to mine so I can finally gulp this wine down. You’re making me nervous, you know.”

She brought her glass to mine, tapped it, and then watched as I took a big swallow. She followed my lead and took an extra-large swig and then immediately starting coughing.

I reached around to pat her back gently. “Are you all right? I don’t think Merlot is meant to be guzzled. Try sipping it. I know I’m a terrible role model, but I tend to consume alcohol more rapidly whenever I’m uncomfortable.”

Celeste touched my arm and that sense of peace I was beginning to attribute to her touch flooded me again. She sipped her wine and nodded. “This has a nice flavor. I think I will like trying more wine. There are many varieties, yes?”

“Oh yes, there are. It all depends on the type of grapes used, where they are grown, and who the winemaker is. The results are dramatically different. Making wine is a little bit art and a little bit science. Excuse me while I finish making dinner. Why don’t you take your wine and relax in the living room.” I pointed to the couch several feet away.

“I cannot assist you in any way? If you demonstrate a task, I am able to replicate the movements.”

“No, please, go sit on the couch and relax. I’ll let you know when it’s ready.”

She nodded and headed to the couch.

While I finished making dinner, I stole a few glances and saw how Gizmo, the little hussy, crawled into Celeste’s lap and made herself comfortable. I could hear her loud purr from several feet away. I quickly tossed some arugula, blueberries, craisens, goat cheese, and cashews into a large bowl and grabbed my homemade salad dressing. My nephew always joked that it was like liquid gold because it was the best he’d ever tasted. I usually traveled to Leavenworth, Washington, to buy the special balsamic vinegar and olive oil. This particular batch was a combination of cranberry walnut balsamic vinegar and blood orange olive oil. It was by far my favorite. I wanted to impress Celeste.

Celeste was humming and I swear, combined with Gizmo’s purr, it almost sounded like they were in harmony. I hated to interrupt, but dinner was finally ready.

“Okay it’s ready, but don’t let Gizmo con you into feeding her. She’s a squash addict and she loves my red sauce. We can eat here in my tiny dining room.”

Celeste approached the table and glanced at the two place settings. “You don’t let Gizmo eat with you?”

I laughed. “Well, I don’t set a plate at the table for her, but I guess she does kind of wiggle her way onto my lap at dinnertime, and I relent a little as I feed her table scraps. I know I shouldn’t, but she’s just so darned cute. I try not to feed her too much people food because it’s really not good for her.”

“She is a lovely companion. Her spirit is pure and she is very fond of you.”

I waited until she sat down and then I brought over the salad, sauce, bowl of squash, and grated Romano cheese. I’d already placed the bottle of wine on the table. I pointed to the food. “Dig in. I’m not very formal, so you don’t need to follow any strict ceremony here.”

“Do I need to dig under there to harvest the food?” she asked as she pointed to the bowl of squash.

She was such a jokester. I laughed again. “Here, I’ll dish it up for you.”

We finished the bottle of wine and, because I wasn’t used to entertaining anyone, my eyelids began to droop. I figured it was time to head off to bed. Besides, tomorrow would probably be a long day of shopping and touring Celeste around, and I wanted to be a good host.

I motioned for Celeste to follow me, pulled out a fresh towel, and dug in my guest bathroom drawer to find a new toothbrush for her to use. Fortunately, I had several in various drawers left over from my bi-annual visits to the dentist, along with multiple small tubes of toothpaste. I don’t know why I kept them. I suppose I thought it would be wasteful to toss them out. I’d already located a t-shirt, some shorts, and a pair of extra sweats, which I laid out on the bed for her. I didn’t know exactly what she had in her backpack, so I figured I’d better equip her with everything she might need.

Celeste seemed to be dragging as well. I don’t think she was used to drinking alcohol and was probably a bigger lightweight than I was. It’s not like she was drunk or anything, but I could tell that it affected her. She got a dopey look on her face and giggled a lot during and after dinner. We talked mostly about nerdy things like the Earth’s geology and ancient myths, but she added her unique sense of humor to the discussion and that caused me to giggle along with her.

I led her to the guest bedroom after showing her the bathroom. “If you need anything at all, my bedroom is just one door down. Sweet dreams, Celeste.”

She smiled and bid me goodnight.

When I settled into my bed, I let my mind wander—fantasize actually—that Celeste would knock on my door in the middle of the night. Then one thing would lead to another, and we’d end up making mad, passionate love. Of course I knew that would never happen, but a girl can dream. I closed my eyes and I’m sure I sported a smile on my face all night long.

Chapter Three

The morning came too rapidly and I awoke to a rough tongue swiping my face. Two paws were furiously making bread on my bare chest. I’d discarded my t-shirt in the middle of the night because it got too warm. I suspect my erotic dreams were the culprit to my increased body temperature. This time, Celeste versus Sydney was the major star of my nighttime adventures.

I giggled. “Gizmo, stop. I told you not to try to French kiss me until I’ve brushed my teeth.”

Gizmo had a bad habit of trying to stick her tongue inside my mouth, and I would have to tighten my lips in an attempt at avoiding her loving attack. She was by far the sweetest cat I’d ever owned, but that didn’t mean I would let her stick her tongue in my mouth. I hadn’t even had the pleasure of a woman doing that to me yet, so I certainly wasn’t about to let my first experience be with my cat.

I heard stirring in the other room and wondered if Celeste was already up. I wanted to make coffee or tea—I didn’t know which she preferred—and then whip up my famous stuffed French toast. I didn’t have a whole lot going for me to impress a woman, but I could cook a gourmet breakfast. Maybe the fastest way to a woman’s heart was through her stomach.

I gently plucked Gizmo from my chest and set her to the side. She gave my hand one last lick for good measure and settled in for a long nap curled up on my bed. I grabbed my t-shirt from the floor where I’d tossed it and pulled it quickly over my head.

I didn’t think my wooing chance would increase by sauntering out into the living room with a bare chest. My body wasn’t anything to write home about. I wasn’t overweight or anything, and I religiously worked out every day, but my flat chest and slim physique didn’t cause any heads to turn—male or female. No six pack graced my abs, and my curves were virtually non-existent.

I grabbed the brush off my dresser in an attempt to tame my wild curls. I’d worked all night on my hairdo and it showed. Pieces of my ’do stuck out every which way. It wasn’t that just-laid look that is so sexy on some women—it was more like a scary Zombie look.

I peeked out to see where Celeste was and, sure enough, she was looking out my front window. She seemed contemplative. It didn’t take long for her to swivel her piercing lavender eyes in my direction—almost as if she sensed me watching her. She looked adorable in my University of Washington sweats that I had laid out for her the night before.

I coughed in embarrassment and walked out to greet her. “Good morning, Celeste. Did you sleep well?”

She smiled. “Oh yes, your sleeping quarters are very comfortable, not at all what I am used to.”

I wanted to ask what she was used to, but I let it slide. I hoped her normal
sleeping quarters
weren’t some mental hospital. “Are you hungry?”

“Yes, I am eager to try another food option. I do not wish to have any more wine this morning. I believe it was the cause of the unpleasant feeling in my head.”

I joked back with her because I was getting used to her sense of humor. “That’s good because I don’t think my stuffed French toast really pairs all that well with any of the wine I have in my closet. You must really be a lightweight. I can give you something for your headache if you want.”

Celeste tilted her head and looked at me with a sort of puzzled expression on her face. “I am of average weight where I come from. Is that what you call the unpleasant feeling—a headache?” she asked.

I chuckled. “Headache, hangover, your choice. A couple of aspirin and some food should help.”

“Do not worry, I healed myself and the
headache
has disappeared.”

I shrugged. “Okay. Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes.”

She looked like she was going to say something back, probably another joke, but instead she just closed her mouth.

After I made a heaping stack of French toast, I watched her devour nearly three quarters of the stack as she licked her lips and made humming noises while she ate. I took that as a good sign. I think she liked my cooking.

“Your food offerings are very good. I wish to try more, but I have an unpleasant feeling right here.” Celeste patted her stomach.

Yeah, I’d probably have a stomachache too if I ate that much
. I didn’t want to be rude though, so I kept my unkind thoughts to myself.

She smiled at me, tilted her head again, and I got the distinct impression that she could read those unkind thoughts. I told myself I needed to do a better job of censoring myself around Celeste because she could clearly read my body language.

“I need to take a shower and get ready. Feel free to take a bath or shower, whichever you prefer. We can both get ready at the same time because, fortunately for me, there’s plenty of water for both of us. You can use the guest bath that I showed you last night. Whenever you’re ready, we can head out and do some shopping.”

She nodded her head vigorously. “Yes, I am eager to try out this shower I have read about with the sweet smelling products. I turned the dials last night and discovered how to make the water flow from the dispenser. The square item for rubbing on your body had a very nice smell that I wish to transfer to my skin.”

“You mean my lavender soap?”

“Ah yes, lavender soap.” She nodded as if she were just remembering something she’d forgotten earlier.

“You can either wear the sweats you have on or I could loan you some jeans and a t-shirt. I’m pretty sure you would fit into my clothes.”

“Whatever you advise. I do not wish to stand out.”

Fat chance of that. Celeste would look beautiful in a potato sack, but I wanted to see her in some jeans. I thought she would fill them out nicely, so I went to my room and rummaged through my drawers until I found a pair of low-rise jeans that I thought would look sexy on her. Sydney had even said I looked hot in them one day, but I knew she was just saying that to try to get me to climb out of my shell. Sydney was like that, she was always saying nice things to me. Sometimes I even fooled myself into believing her.

I must have been doing some serious astro traveling thinking about Sydney because when I went back out to the living room, Celeste was gone and I heard the guest shower running.
Shit, what do I do now? I can’t just barge into the bathroom and set the clothes on the counter, she’ll think I’m some kind of perv.

As I was pondering my dilemma, I heard the water in the shower turn off and shuffling sounds in the bathroom. I felt like a deer in front of headlights as my indecision froze me to the spot. A few minutes later, the door to the bathroom opened and Celeste casually strolled out wearing absolutely nothing, not even a towel. I knew I was being rude, but I couldn’t help myself—I gawked at her. Celeste was a goddess. The fact that she showed absolutely no inhibitions when she walked toward me and took the clothes from my hands just increased the drool factor. I was too dumbfounded to say anything, and simply held the jeans and t-shirt in front of me like I was presenting gold to a Queen.

“Thank you, my sweet Bella.”

I’d forgotten to bring her underwear and only realized this after she’d taken my offering. She didn’t seem to notice and I hesitated again. I wasn’t sure about loaning someone my boring, white, Hanes for women. Then I figured lots of people go commando and don’t even give it a second thought. Besides, it was exciting to know that this exotic woman would be wearing my jeans and that just seemed so intimate—like our most private places would share the same space. God, I was going to go straight to hell—I just knew it.

As I was daydreaming about smelling my own jeans after she’d removed them, Celeste had departed to the guest bedroom to finish getting dressed. I hurried back to my own bathroom because I was running behind. Now I was having daytime sex dreams and that would surely get me into serious trouble.

It didn’t take me long to take a shower and get dressed. I was anxious to get going, so I did something completely out of character for me. Instead of blow-drying my hair, I shook my curls out and hoped for the best. I rarely let my hair dry naturally because I am so self-conscious about how it might look when I don’t straighten it. I don’t usually wear make-up, so it only took me another couple of minutes to throw on a pair of well worn jeans and a soft cotton t-shirt.

I found Celeste in the living room flipping pages in a book so fast that it was impossible to imagine her actually reading the information. This was a good thing, since it appeared as though she’d found my lesbian erotica. Even though I thought she hadn’t had enough time to read the book in her hands, I could feel the heat engulf my body until perspiration appeared. I felt a trickle of sweat between my breasts. I’m sure my face was an embarrassing shade of fuchsia.

She looked up at me and I swear she had a wolfish grin. “Bella, do you wish to lick my pussy, or would you rather I suck your tender bud until you scream my name in ecstasy?”

I choked out an unintelligent, “What?”

I swear she smirked at me. “This book of yours is quite educational. Perhaps we shall discuss this tonight under the moon and stars. Let us go shopping now.”

Damn, this woman put unholy thoughts into my mind and, yes, I did want her to lick me like a lollipop. I shook my head to try to get that image out so I could concentrate on our shopping trip.

“Before we head to North Bend today, I’d like to stop at Pioneer Coffee and get my favorite beverage, a double vanilla, soy milk latte. Do you mind?”

“Is this a drink I might like to try?” she asked.

“Oh yeah, especially with cinnamon on top.”

I was now focused on my chosen addiction—coffee. This would, hopefully, help me steer clear of a new craving I was developing—fantasizing about Celeste.

We piled into my old beater and I noticed that Celeste was scrutinizing me as I pulled the seat belt across my shoulder and buckled myself in. She placed her backpack between her knees and, as soon as she clicked her restraint in place, we headed to the coffee shop.

She watched me again as I unclipped my seat belt and seemed to struggle with the release button, so I reached over and pressed the button with my left hand while I guided the metal buckle and shoulder strap gently back into the release mechanism with my right hand. I’m not sure why I did this because Celeste was not a child who might be startled by the seatbelt rapidly retracting. Maybe I wanted some kind of physical connection to her. This was the most intimate interaction I’d ever had with a woman as my hand accidently brushed against her stomach. How pathetic is that? My sheltered life was causing me havoc as I started to experience too many firsts in a short time.

†

Pioneer Coffee was a local favorite of our sister city, Cle Elum. Not only did they serve the best coffee drinks, but they also sold local wines. In the winter, the fireplace was always roaring and patrons would stretch out and relax on the comfy sofa and chairs that were strategically placed next to the warmth of the fire. Since it wasn’t winter, everyone sprawled out in every nook and cranny.

When I opened the front door, I groaned as I spied Sydney and her bitchy girlfriend, Hollie.

Hollie was an accomplished attorney and everyone’s golden girl—well, everyone who shared her political views and social standing in the community. The rest of us nerds and common people got to see her decidedly less charming side. When Sydney wasn’t looking, her non-verbal messages were clear—stay away, loser.

I never understood what Sydney saw in Hollie. Sure, her outward appearance was flawless, but she was a soulless she-devil and treated Sydney like shit. Sydney was no more than her loyal and devoted lap dog. As far as I could see, Sydney was not an equal partner, but rather eye candy that Hollie loved to show off.

Of course, Sydney saw us enter the shop right away and waved us over. I couldn’t be rude, so I reluctantly made my way to their table. Celeste followed my lead and stood beside me as I approached my high school crush and
the enemy
.

“Hey, Sydney. You remember Celeste, right?”

Sydney smiled and nodded. “Of course, you’re the one who wants to learn all about stuff that our resident librarian and expert on remote and interesting trivia knows absolutely everything about. You couldn’t have found a better person to help you. Mabs is amazing with the amount of knowledge she has in that big brain of hers.”

I noticed Hollie scowling when she said that, but Sydney was too busy motioning toward the empty seats to register her sourpuss expression. However, before glaring at me, she focused her penetrating gaze on Celeste and I could tell she liked what she saw. I was willing to bet my house that she would turn on the charm with Celeste.

“Celeste, right?” Sydney pointed to Hollie. “This is my girlfriend, Hollie.”

Hollie directed her perfectly dazzling smile at Celeste. “It’s wonderful to meet you. I’m not sure what information you were looking for, but I’d be happy to help in any way I can. I don’t think Mabel knows that much about our legal system or politics. So… anytime you want to have lunch, my treat of course, I’ll fill you in. It sounded like you aren’t from the US and it can be complicated to understand our system of justice.” Hollie placed a business card in Celeste’s hand and held on just a bit longer than I thought necessary.

I grinned when Celeste’s response was polite but distant.