Page 22 of The Wilder Widows

“Shhhhh, everyone is staring!” She tried to clap her hand over my mouth, but I screamed the word through her cupped hand.

“Say it loud and proud, Doris! Lesbian!”

“Okay, okay! Shhhh. Enough!” she scolded and released the grip on my mouth. “Just stop shouting!”

“Say it without whispering, or I’ll shout it again.” I pursed my lips and gave her a warning smile.

“I’m just not—”

“LES—”

“Okay! Okay!” She swatted me with her hand. “Lesbian. There I said it without whispering.”

“One more time. With meaning.” I grinned.

With a heavy sigh, she looked straight at Marge. “Marge is a lesbian. And I’m okay with that.”

“Atta girl.” I patted her on the back.

“Well, I only may be a lesbian. I’m not sure yet.”

“Not sure?” Sylvie argued. “You and that waitress were flirting. Hard.”

“Yeah, but that’s just flirting. I don’t think I’ll know for sure until I... you know.”

“Coochie canoodle?” I asked.

“Oh God, gross.” Sylvie cringed.

“I was thinking more like kiss a woman. But yeah... that. I don’t think I can know for sure until I try to... know you.”

“Coochie canoodle.”

“Alice, stop!” Sylvie laughed and slapped my arm.

“What?” I shrugged. “That’s what they’ll be doing.”

“I may be a lesbian, and even I’m horrified by that term.” Marge shook her head and shuddered. “Let’s just call it ‘lady loving.’”

“Same thing,” I said with a shrug. “So, are you going for it?”

“I wouldn’t even know how to start. Not only have I never hit on a woman before, but I haven’t flirted since I was in ‘Nam. And even then, I was terrible at it.”

“Well, you were doing very well already,” Sylvie encouraged. “She was responsive.”

“You think?”

Sylvie and I nodded in unison.

As we finished our nod, the waitress emerged through the crowd, and her eyes moved straight to Marge. A shy smile curved her hot pink lips and caused Marge to flush once again. She looked to Marge’s full drink before casting one last glance and moving back through the crowd.

“Oh yeah.” I laughed. “She’s into you. And you’d better drink that sucker down, so she has a reason to come back over.”

“Good idea!” Marge took a sip of her drink, and it caused her face to pucker. “What the hell is this? Cripes. It’s so sweet I think my teeth are gonna fall out.”

“Drink it anyway. Drink it for love.” I egged her on, and Marge took a long sip through the straw.

“Love hurts.”