Mavis Applewater - Finding My Way

“Yikes!” I squealed at my punishment for teasing her. “Let me guess you were expecting the standard “just don’t make a pass at me” line.”

“It wouldn’t have been the first time.” Allison added.

“So my gay friends back home have told me.” I explained. “I’m sorry I just could not resist teasing you. You looked so serious. Plus I can think of worse things than having someone tall dark and gorgeous finding me attractive.” Allison looked at me with a curious expression. “Come on.” I gave her a playful shove. “Let’s put those muscles of yours to good use.”

“Oh so now I’m slave labor.” She teased in return as we climbed into her black Subaru Outback.

Once we returned to my new home there I realized how little I actually owned. I had traveled light not knowing what I could expect to find in Haven. What I hadn’t sold I stored at Peter’s. “You need furniture.” Allison stated the obvious as she glanced at her watch. “It is too late to pick up a futon.” I had already checked out of the motel and the thought of sleeping on the floor was less than appealing. I was contemplating buying an air mattress at the local hardware store. But I quickly realized that would be closed as well. The first down side to Haven they rolled up the sidewalks fairly early. I could spend one night roughing it. Suddenly I wished I hadn’t been kicked out of the Girl Scouts. “I wasn’t my fault. Jenny was the one who wanted to play doctor.”

“You can crash on my couch tonight.” Allison’s offer tore me away from my unexpected trip down memory lane.

“Thank God.” I sighed with relief.

“Look I’m having dinner with Maureen.” Allison began to explain. “You can join us or unpack … well you could if you had something to put your clothes in.”

“Dinner sounds great.”

“It’s settled then. Tonight we eat and tomorrow we shop.” Allison offered. “With my Subaru we can probably get everything in one trip.”

“Thank you.” I repeated.

“Thank Chris.” She explained. “If it wasn’t for her I would still be driving my little BMW.”

“Ouch.”

“Hey, I love my Outback.” She asserted. “Let’s go upstairs and get ready.”

While Allison was in the shower I took the opportunity to look around her apartment. There were no signs that she was a lesbian. There was also no comparison to the my little apartment downstairs. Hers covered the second and third floor. Her French doors opened up onto a small deck. She had a fireplace with a marble mantle. The mantle was covered with pictures of her family. Above the pictures hung a carefully framed shadow box containing a saber. I did not need to ask. I knew it must have belonged to Stephan Ballister.

“It belonged to one of my ancestors.” Allison said from behind me. I turned a felt my pulse begin to race. She was breath taking standing there in nothing but a white terry cloth robe.

“Your Great Grandfather. Master Sergeant Stephan James Ballister.” I asserted with confidence.

“That was a hell of a guess.” she responded slyly. “But he was my Great Great Grandfather.”

I shot her a cocky glare as I turned away, leaving her to stew on how I knew about her famous ancestor. As I showered I found my mind wandering. How could I have not known that Allison was gay. Not that it made a difference. But she did not look gay? Not that it meant anything. I wondered what kind of signs I had been looking for in her apartment. “A Georgia O’Keefe print? A sign that said I like girls! A brand new toaster oven?” What the hell was I thinking? Allison and I are friends. I like her and that is that. Now for the first time in years I was having a night out with the girls. I could not wait. This would probably be our last chance to have some fun until the semester was over.

When I finally emerged from the shower I found Allison smartly dressed in black slacks and a matching blazer. I felt my pulse quicken for the hundredth time that day. This time my heart was racing when I noticed the pearl silk camisole underneath her blazer. “God Allison! Why can’t you wear a blouse like a normal person?” She was smiling at something she was reading. Whatever it was Allison certainly found it entertaining as she smoked her cigarette.

“What are you reading?”

“Your resume.” She answered as she glanced up at me. “I just found it. “

“Here?”

“So I lack organizational skills.” She snarled playfully while taking another drag from her cigarette. “Top five percent of your class at Yale, very impressive. So couldn’t get into Harvard?” She teased taking another drag. I walked over and took the cigarette away from her and took a drag myself. I watched as a single eyebrow arched. “Now and then.” I said in answer to her unspoken question. “Probably not even an entire pack in my life.”

“I hate people like that.” She shot out grabbing the cigarette from me.

“I thought you quit?” I shot back.

“I’m working on it.” She grumbled.

“So went to Harvard I take it?” I decided to let her off the hook for the moment.

“Law school after my undergrad at Wellesley.”

“You know that makes us sworn enemies.” I taunted her as I removed her cigarette from her mouth. I looked around and discovered an ashtray on the coffee table and quickly extinguished the cigarette. “Last one.” I admonished her.

“I’ll try. ” She promised. “I just found it. I must have hidden it for an emergency.” She blushed at her lack of self-control. Quickly she turned her attention back to my resume. “You got your PH. D at twenty three. That’s disgusting!”

“I am going to get dressed.” I responded indignantly as I turned to enter her bedroom. Suddenly I felt her hand on my waist. I could feel her warmth emanating through the towel I had wrapped myself in. “Here it is!” She cried out. “Please don’t let go.” I silently begged.

“What?” I turned to her praying that she wouldn’t notice my now crimson face. She did and snatched her hand away quickly. “Sorry.” She apologized.

“So just what did you find?” I said quickly hoping to enact some damage control.

“This.” She answered pointing to my resume. “This is what I was looking for. Your first book.”

Unconsciously I leaned closer to her. “The Executions Of Corcoran and O’Brien.”

“I read that.” She said proudly. “It was very good. The story of the first execution in the Confederate Army. They were in the Louisiana Tigers , Company B. That was my Great Great Grandfather’s company.”

“I know.” I leaned closer to her as if my body had a will of it’s own.

“Is that how we met before?” She asked in a curious tone. “It wasn’t the diaries … was it?”

“Yes.” I whispered finally pressing my body into hers. “I had originally wanted to write about Stephan Ballister.”

She closed her eyes and pressed her body closer to mine. I was so close that I could hear her heart beating. I revealed in her warmth. Thoughts escaped me … my breathing ceased nothing mattered only the feel of this woman against me. “You should call Peter.” She said suddenly. My head snapped at the harshness of her voice. I stepped away from her rapidly suddenly feeling ashamed. It was the realization of what my body was feeling compiled with the knowledge that any thoughts of Peter had vanished.

“I will call him tomorrow after I call the telephone company.” I ignored Allison’s puzzled stare and raced into her bedroom. I closed the door behind me and tried to regain my composure. “What the hell was that all about? I will not allow this to happen. I just need to focus on Peter. You remember Peter don’t you Stephanie? He’s the guy that you are planning on marrying. Why is this happening all of a sudden? But this isn’t the first or even the second time you have more than noticed an attractive woman. I will not do this again! There is nothing wrong with me. Liar! Shut Up! You shut up! Great now I am arguing with myself. And to make matters worse I am losing.”

“I wonder if this is the first sign of insanity.” I said aloud. “Maybe. Yes. No. Stop it! Get dressed Stephanie before those nice men in white coats come and drop a net on you.”

I finally emerged from Allison’s bedroom dressed in a pair of black jeans and a chartreuse silk blouse. If Allison noticed my prolonged absence she never mentioned it. In fact she did not mention much of anything. She smiled simply and told me that I looked nice. There was something different in the tone of voice she had chosen. It was very big sisterish. Allison was clearly drawing a platonic line in the sand. Upon Maureen’s arrival, Allison informed her that I would be joining them.

“Great now we can get her drunk and learn all of her deep dark secrets.” Maureen teased.

“Too late Mrs. Giavanni already beat you to it.” I countered. “She promised not to reveal where the bodies are hidden.”

“Clever girl.” Maureen responded with a laugh. “So how did Mrs. G get a hold of you so soon?”

“Stephanie is renting the studio downstairs.” Allison explained in full big sister mode. “Who is driving?”

The driver was decided by flipping a coin. Maureen lost. “Waste of a good baby sitter.” She muttered.

“What are you bitching about?” Allison teased her. “We are the ones that have to be seen in a mini van.”

As Maureen drove down Rte. 128, I felt something I had not experienced in a long time fear. I was relieved once we left the highway. My reprieve was short lived. The roads in the city were a mess. “What is this?” I exclaimed as we sat in bumper-to-bumper traffic. “Bureaucracy in action … better known as the Big Dig.” Maureen snarled.

“Just what are they digging for?” I asked in amazement.