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Sure, I’d dated women over the years, but I’d just never had that…that fire. That knowledge that I was completely and utterly in love. I would go on dates and keep going on dates with women, hoping it would happen. Begging it to happen. But then it never would, and I’d get tired of waiting, or they’d get tired of me, and it would end.
Maybe… Maybe I could find someone here? There did seem to be more than a few queer women around, but they were all happily coupled.
An image of a grumpy woman with reddish curly hair flitted through my mind.
“You okay?” Sasha asked. “You’re blushing.”
“I’m fine,” I said as she stuffed her dress back into the bag.
Sasha demanded that I stay for dinner and I got to finally meet her soon-to-be-wife, Jax.
Jax was more reserved than I expected, but it made sense, since Sasha was so vibrant. They balanced each other out perfectly.
“You up for making dinner, or should I?” Sasha asked as we all hung out in the living room attached to the kitchen.
“I had to clean up after a bathroom accident and got stuck chairing a new committee for next year. I need to de-stress,” Jax said. I couldn’t imagine being a teacher and being in charge of a roomful of children. Not to mention making sure they learned how to read and make friends and be a good human. It gave me hives just thinking about the responsibility. Definitely not for me. I didn’t need to shadow anyone to know that.
“Go for it, cook it all out. How about I make you a drink?” Jax and Sasha were the kind of people who had a fully stocked bar cart in their home and all kinds of fancy cocktail glasses. I made a mental note to ask where they got them. I enjoyed a good Moscow Mule and wanted to have the proper cups for them.
“You want?” Sasha asked. “I can make you a mocktail. I learned a few things from Esme, our resident bartender.”
“I’d love one,” I said.
“You got it,” she said and went to grab some oranges from the big bowl on the kitchen island.
I felt a little useless while they worked on food and drinks, so I ventured over to see if there was anything I could do.
“Oh, don’t bother. She’s a control freak,” Sasha said before I could get close to Jax and ask if she needed a hand.
“I am not a control freak,” Jax said, slowly turning around and narrowing her eyes at Sasha.
“I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. I love you just the way you are,” she said, skipping over to give Jax a kiss on the cheek. Jax softened and pulled Sasha into her arms. I looked away and wished I had a drink in my hand to hold.
“You love it,” Jax said in Sasha’s ear and I felt my cheeks getting red. “And now we’ve made our guest uncomfortable. I’m sorry, Kendra.”
“It’s fine,” I said, my voice coming out as a squeak.
“Get back to work and make my dinner,” Sasha said, and smacked Jax on the backside.
“Watch it,” Jax said, pointing at Sasha with a spoon.
Sasha just laughed and went back to making drinks. She handed me something that looked identical to the glass she handed Jax and kept for herself.
“It’s non-alcoholic, I promise,” she said as I studied it. “But it tastes almost as good as the real thing.”
I took a sip and was shocked. It had just the right bite and sweetness of a good cocktail.
Sasha put on some music and I relaxed, feeling warm as if I’d had alcohol in my system.
Jax and Sasha talked across the distance to each other, and I got the impression that Jax liked to have the kitchen to herself when she was decompressing.
“So yeah, if you ever want a signed Jack Hill book, let me know. We’ve got plenty of them,” Sasha said.
It was hard to believe that Jax’s father was world-famous horror author Jack Hill. It never occurred to me that the name Jack Hill was a pen name, and that he was just a normal guy with a wife and a grown daughter.
“Oh, maybe. My dad does love his books,” I said. That might be a good present for him when he and Mom came up to visit.
“If you want a personal book signing when she comes up, he’d probably love that,” Sasha said.
“Don’t encourage him,” Jax yelled.
“Oh, it’s fun. It makes him happy,” Sasha said. My eyes flicked to a family portrait on the wall of Jax and Sasha and another couple that had to be Jax’s parents because Jax was a carbon copy of her dad. Plus, I had seen Jack Hill’s pictures on the back of book covers before.
“I can’t imagine having a famous father,” I said.
