Джерри Хилл - Kara’s Moon

"Do you want to ask me anything?" Kara said when she returned.

"What do you mean?"

"Straight women are usually curious." She slumped down into one of the chairs and waited for Ginny to follow.

Ginny glanced at the woman who looked so relaxed suddenly, her shorts sliding up as she crossed one leg over the other. Ginny pulled her eyes from the long, tan legs stretched out before her and tipped the beer bottle to her lips. She wasn’t exactly curious, she told herself. Well, maybe a little.

"How long have you been this way?" she finally asked.

Kara laughed and tossed her cigarette down and stepped on it with her hiking boot. "All my life, I guess. Or do you mean, how long have I known I was a lesbian?"

Ginny smiled. "Yes, that’s what I mean."

"In high school, I suppose, although it wasn’t until college that I finally acted on my feelings."

"And are you involved with someone now?" Ginny asked.

Kara laughed again. "No. Not in awhile. I’ve been working and I’m told I can’t do both," she said, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

Ginny noticed her stinging tone, but she didn’t comment on it. She waited for Kara to continue, but Kara clearly didn’t want to share any more information.

"Have you had dinner?" Kara asked suddenly.

"No."

"I had intended on asking you over the other morning, but… well, I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable."

"I’m really sorry. That was stupid of me," Ginny said. "I’m not usually so rude."

"I’ve got plenty," Kara continued, as if she hadn’t spoken.

Ginny nodded. "Okay. Dinner would be nice."

Ginny sat at the table as Kara lit a candle and placed it between them. She looked up into the amused eyes standing over her, but said nothing. So, Kara was playing games, was she?

"So, what have you decided to do about Phil?" Kara asked as she handed Ginny a plate of pasta.

"I haven’t really decided to do anything," she said.

"Still hiding?"

"I suppose," Ginny smiled. "I’m hoping it will just go away."

"Well, from what I remember about men, it won’t."

Ginny looked up, surprised.

"What? Do you think that I’ve never slept with a man?" Kara asked.

"I don’t know. Have you?"

"Of course." She leaned forward and grinned. "I was terrified the first time I thought I might be gay. I made an offer to the quarterback and he didn’t turn me down," she said and laughed.

"And?"

"And, I felt nothing, other than pain," she said and laughed again. "But, the first time and all." She shrugged. "But, anyway, I dated in college, too, but I just could never make a connection with any of them. Then I met Andrea. Six foot two and a star on the basketball team and I finally found out what I had been missing all those years. That’s when I knew for sure."

"What about your family?"

"Oh, they went through denial for a couple of years, tried to get me to see a therapist and I refused. But, being the only child of a very prominent family, they couldn’t very well disown me. And they haven’t." Kara twisted pasta around her fork and felt Ginny watching her. "What about you? Any siblings?"

"No. I was an only child, too. Only my mother never knew it," she said with difficulty.

Kara raised her eyebrows.

"Becky is four years older than I am. She hung the moon."

"Or so your mother thought?"

Ginny smiled. "The apple of my mother’s eye, yes. Fortunately, my father thought the same about me. We each had all the attention that we could stand." Her eyes clouded over and Kara waited for her to continue. "Dad died when I was twelve," she said softly.

"I’m sorry."

"And I was left alone, with a mother who didn’t know I existed and a sister who never let me forget it."

"Louise and your grandfather?"

"Yes. My father’s parents; they were great. I spent every summer out here for as long as I could remember. After Dad died, I came here as soon as school was out for the summer and didn’t return until it started back again." Ginny nodded when Kara offered more wine and she watched as her fingers gripped the bottle, her nails cut neat and short.

"Then what?"

"College, that I paid for myself. A job and then Phil," she finished. "Very exciting."

"And Becky?"

Ginny shrugged. "I saw her at my mother’s funeral. Before that, I hadn’t seen her in years."

"So your childhood rivalry continued when you were adults?"

"Oh, God, yes. Believe me, she was as surprised as I was to find that I was even mentioned in the will," she said bitterly. "My dad’s doing," she explained.

"And I thought being an only child was tough," Kara said gently. "I’m sorry."

Ginny looked up and smiled, knowing her eyes were sparkling with tears. "You’re a very good cook," she said, changing the subject with ease. "I can’t find my way around a kitchen, I’m afraid."

Kara took the hint and let the conversation drift to less personal things. Ginny helped with the dishes, despite Kara’s plea not to and left shortly afterwards, but not before giving Kara a quick hug and another apology. She supposed Ginny was lonely after all. Maybe she just missed Phil. Or maybe she was just tired of Louise’s company.

Kara took her last cigarette out to the porch and smoked in the darkness, her mind wandering back to Ginny with such ease that it startled her. Perhaps Ginny had been wise to be afraid of her, she mused. Kara had found her eyes moving to Ginny time and again during the evening and she inhaled deeply on her cigarette, refusing to acknowledge the attraction that was growing each time she saw her.

"She’s straight," she told the darkness.

Ginny undressed quietly, not wanting to wake Nana. She had been astonished when she glanced at her watch on the way home. They had spent hours talking, as if they were old friends. Comfortable friends. Or merely familiar strangers. Perhaps it was true; easier to share thoughts and secrets with a virtual stranger than your closest friend. Whatever the reason, she had enjoyed their time together and she had found Kara to be a captive audience.