All afternoon the word "lesbian" jumped out unbidden to ambush my thoughts. At first, I seemed to glimpse it as if from far away and I shied from it, sick and frightened. But as the day wore on, it drew closer until I threw myself on the bed and sobbed in an agony of self-accusation. I cried until I was exhausted.
In the calm that followed my shame, I thought of the kiss Sheri and I had shared that day, and the shame dissolved into pleasure. I put my hand against my mouth and relived the pressure of her lips on mine, the softness of her, the fragrance of her perfume. The shudder that had passed through my body when, all pins and needles, I had timidly, shyly, ventured to touch those lips with the tip of my tongue as she opened to me and drew me into her mouth. It had been like a wrestling match, her tongue and mine - her warm, wet, oh-so-delightful tongue.
I relived the happiness and excitement that kiss had wrought and thought maybe – maybe - I had not done anything so wicked after all.
I finally got up to go to the bathroom. As I released my stream my thoughts wandered again to Sheri. She was so normal, so feminine, the model of a mother and a teacher and a wife. Why was I so attracted to her? I washed my hands and appraised myself in the mirror. Nothing seemed wrong. Nothing seemed different. I had breasts and full hips like other girls. I wore lipstick and curled my hair. My eyebrows, the crook of my arms, the shape of my legs-everything was feminine. I held my fists to my cheeks and stared at the anguished image of myself in the mirror and begged God for an answer.
I had always thought of homosexual women as great, strong creatures in mannish slacks with brush cuts and deep voices; unhappy people standing apart from the crowd. I looked at myself, hugging my bosom in a vain attempt at comfort, whispering over and over, "I'm a girl. I'm a girl. But if I'm a girl, why do I love a girl? What's wrong with me? There must be something wrong with me."
But then I thought of Sheri, her clean wholesome beauty and her gentleness, her intelligent good humor and kind eyes. Surely, nothing she did could possibly be wrong. And Sheri had kissed me.
o-o-o-o
The meeting of the board dragged interminably. Sheri clicked methodically through the agenda, absorbed in the minutiae of swim team business. I had already given the treasurer’s report and was having difficulty staying engaged because I could not help dwelling on what Dawn had told me in confidence not two hours before.
“It’s true, Sara! I saw it happening,” Dawn whispered conspiratorially as we sipped lattes at Starbucks. “It was six years ago, before your girls joined the team, back when my own Kayla was just eight. Sheri was involved with another woman. And it almost broke up her marriage!”
Dawn was such a gossip that I discounted most of what she said. Still, who would not be interested in such a startling revelation? Sheri? Confident, intelligent, attractive Sheri? How could that be? Her life was, well, perfect. She was married to an engineer and had three beautiful and accomplished teen daughters, the oldest of which were identical twins. She lived in an upscale neighborhood, taught fourth grade, and was a natural leader who seemed to automatically gravitate towards running every organization to which she belonged. Although ten years older than me, she was my friend, my mentor, and even sometimes my confidante. Could it be true?
I watched Sheri covertly with new eyes as I sat next to her at the long folding table. How would it have happened? How did they discover their attraction for each other? Or had Sheri seduced her? It was hard to believe that Sheri herself could be seduced for she was so self-possessed and firmly grounded. How did they actually go about... doing it? Images flashing through my mind of Sheri and her friend making love left a fluttery feeling in my middle.
I came back from my reveries in time to second the motion to adjourn. People quickly filed out and I made to stand when Sheri put a restraining hand on my forearm.
“Can you stay just a bit, Sara? There’s something I’d like to discuss in private.”
My heart leapt in panic. Had she read my thoughts?
When we were alone, Sheri turned to me with a worried look. “Sara, you seem so distant today. Have I offended you in some way?”
I denied it, yet she had this way of just sitting, waiting, until the truth came out. She sat implacable while I squirmed.
“I heard something,” I finally blurted. “I don’t believe it. I’m sure it’s just idle gossip – one of those stories that go around about people… “
Sheri did not seem surprised. “What did you hear?”
I couldn’t look at her. I said in a tiny voice, “People are saying you had an affair with another woman. That it almost cost you your marriage. I don’t see how it can be true.”
“And yet you wonder. Is that it?” Sheri sat staring at her hands as if seeing things as they were long ago, and then looked suddenly at me. “It wasn’t the way people think it was.”
I sat next to her at the table secretly reveling in the warmth of her nearness, mesmerized at the light hair on her arms, the porcelain skin. She was a beautiful woman – tall, slender, and leggy. Her fingers were marvelously long, tipped with carefully manicured nails, her smile so wistful and gentle and welcoming. I felt a strong urge to rest my head on her bosom as she quietly told her story and listen to her heartbeat as her chest moved rhythmically with her breathing, swelling with swift grace under her demure tee.
Finally, she spoke again. “You know how men are. My husband Chris never seems to be content. I mean in bed,” she hastened to explain. “He was always pestering me to talk about sex - about experiences I’ve had, my fantasies, whether I do anything when he’s on a long trip. What was my first time like? Had I ever fantasized about being with another guy? Had I ever used a toy? Had I ever been with a woman? And on and on and on.”
Oh my gosh. I could not believe she was talking like this. It was hard to imagine such a formidable woman even having sex, although her daughters weren’t brought by the fairies. And now she was sharing some of the most intimate, personal details of her life. I found my face flushing crimson.
“I know,” I stuttered. “My husband is the same way. He seems to think that I’m secretly a porn star, or something, and I’m holding out on him. He refuses to believe that I’m as boring as I actually am.”
Sheri laughed. “Exactly! Finally, just to shut him up, I told him that I had a crush on one of my girlfriends when I was sixteen.”
“Lots of girls have crushes at that age. That’s not unusual,” I observed.
“Well, with Chris it was like throwing gasoline on the fire. I never, ever should have told him that. He pounced like a tiger. He wanted to know every detail, even though there weren’t any details. We never did anything. I never even told her I liked her or thought of her romantically. It was nothing, just a harmless teenage girl thing, but from that moment on he was convinced I fancied girls, and nothing would turn him aside from that notion. So, he started in on what it would be like to have another woman share our bed.”
I laughed sympathetically. “Isn’t that the fantasy of every man?”
“Probably,” Sheri agreed. “But once Chris gets a notion in his head, he is simply incapable of letting it go. Every time we made love he was whispering in my ear, telling me what it would be like in the most explicit terms, cajoling me, begging me. Had I ever fantasized about being with a girl? Didn’t I want to know what it might be like? At first, I tried to shush him. I said I wasn’t interested. That he was making me angry. But he kept on, night after night. And it made him so passionate, so vigorous, that after awhile maybe I didn’t mind so much.”
I giggled a bit at that, but Sheri didn’t notice, her brow furrowed in memory and perhaps relief at finally unburdening herself. She was silent for so long that I finally squeaked, “So what happened?”
“The funny thing was,” Sheri continued, “I actually did start wondering what it would be like.” She was the one blushing now. “I mean, I’m not a lesbian or anything. But who hasn’t at least wondered? She looked at me imploringly.
I didn’t know what to say. “I guess that’s completely natural. Everyone probably does at one time or another.”
She continued, reassured. “So, one night it was the same old thing. Had I ever fantasized about being with a girl? Surely I had! Did I imagine what it would be like to kiss someone? To make love to someone? Did it excite me to have those kinds of thoughts? And for some reason, I whispered back just as he was approaching his peak, ‘Maybe sometimes.’ And I thought he was going to have a stroke. He has never climaxed so hard, not even that time when I let him...”
Her voice trailed off and again she blushed furiously. She hastened on.
“We didn’t discuss it anymore that night, but next morning we were on our way to yet another swim meet when he broached the subject again, and he was serious this time. He knew that I wasn’t a lesbian. And he knew that I would never seek out a relationship with another woman. But wouldn’t it be fun just once to indulge a fantasy? To let something happen in real life that perhaps I had dreamed about? Would I do it just for him?”
Sheri gave a wry smile. “In truth, I had begun to wonder. It was exciting to imagine myself doing something so out of character, but I wasn’t going to let on to him. I sighed in exasperation and asked what he was trying to get at.”
“’I know someone that I think you’d like,’ he said. ‘Someone both of us would like. I think maybe I could set up something where you two could meet.’”
Sheri chuckled ruefully. “I’m afraid I snapped at him without thinking. ’First of all, there will not be a both of us. I will not even consider sharing you with another woman.’ And just like that, I had somehow agreed to meet Nikki, for that was her name.”
I was enthralled. “Did you actually meet her, Sheri? What was she like?”
“We met Nikki in a secluded little bistro one night when the girls were at their grandparents. She was there when we arrived, and I spied her even before Chris introduced us. She was beautiful, about your age, with the thickest, most lustrous raven hair in vintage, old-Hollywood glamour style that cascaded in curls to her shoulders and set off her face to perfection. Her eyes were striking, with dark brows and long lashes, an impish hazel brown that fairly radiated intelligence and an inquisitive nature. She had a Greek nose, powerful but feminine, a warm smile and an elfin chin. She was everything that I’m not – lithe, petite, and athletic - and I was in love with her from the first moment.”