Jordan heard the door click open and closed.  She sank back into the warm water and let her thoughts drift.  Of course when she took the bridle off, her thoughts roamed toward the physical.  She imagined Amy by candlelight.  Amy naked.  Amy's lips.  Amy's lips kissing her.  Amy's breasts.  Amy's breasts sudsy and wet.  Amy's stomach.  Amy's thighs.

The door opened.  “Cover up, I’m coming in.”

“What?” Jordan squeaked.

The woman’s voice said, "Sorry, but I can’t wait.  I just have to pee real quick.  I’ll be in and out."

Jordan held her breath and hoped this intruder was Amy’s roommate.  Maybe if she kept quiet she would hurry and pee and go away.

Jordan heard shoes squeak across the bathroom floor, the sound of a zipper and then somebody peeing in the toilet.  "Sorry, Amy, but I had to go.  I don't want to interrupt your Zen bath or anything, but I thought I ought to warn you about something."

This peeing person thought she was Amy! Now Jordan was really at a loss.  She didn't know what to do.  If she told whoever it was that she wasn't Amy, she would have to explain what she was doing in the tub.  And she didn't think Isabel, if it were Isabel, would appreciate a stranger in her bathtub – especially when she had her pants down around her ankles.  So, she kept her mouth shut.

The woman continued, "The word is that Chad is going to ask you to marry him.  Tonight.  He's on his way over.  He told Jeremy that he bought you a ring.  Jeremy tried to call you, but you’re not answering your phone, so he called me.  He said it was huge!  The ring, I mean.  Chad told Jeremy you were playing hard to get.  Said you were dating somebody else just to get him to man up and buy a ring.  So, he did.  Can you believe it?"

No, Jordan could not believe it.  But it all made sense.  It made sense in an icky kind of way.  Amy was playing her just to get this Chad guy.

The toilet flushed.  Which was a good thing because it covered the noise of Jordan’s heart splintering into about a million fucking pieces.

There was a timid tap at the door and Amy’s voice from the other side said, “Jordan?  I couldn’t find any candles.  So get ready, here I come in the flesh and nothing else.  Let there be light!”

The overhead light came on.

Amy stood naked in the doorway with a hand on the light switch.  Isabel’s pants were around her ankles.  Jordan was naked in the tub.

They looked at each other.

Amy said to Isabel, "What're you doing in here?"

Isabel said, "Peeing.  What're you doing naked? And if you’re over there who is that in the bathtub?”

They looked at Jordan.

Jordan rose, grabbed a towel from the floor and wrapped it around herself.  She found her voice and said, “I’ll tell you who I am.  I’m obviously the other woman.  The woman who doesn’t know when she’s being played for a fool.”  She headed for the door.

“Wait,” Amy said, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around herself, too.  “What’re you talking about?”

“Game’s over,” Jordan said.  “I’m out of here.”  She marched out of the bathroom.

Amy stayed glued to the floor, unable to comprehend what just happened.  She heard the front door open and close.  “What happened?” Amy said to Isabel.  “I just went to get candles.  What happened?”

Isabel grimaced.  “I think I may have accidentally told her Chad was coming over to propose to you.”


Jordan Runs

 

As soon as she cleared the front door, Jordan sprinted around the side of the house and into the backyard.  She was wearing only a towel and wasn't eager for the entire neighborhood to see her business.  She cut through the backyard and stumbled down the alley.  Less of a chance for somebody to see her and call her the cops.  She could just see the headline now:  Children’s Author Wearing Birthday Suit Runs from Lesbian Lover.  Or maybe it would be a headline straight from Chad’s mouth:  Lezebel!

“Ouch!”  She was way too tender-footed to be running around barefoot.  Why hadn't she thought to grab her clothes?  Or at least her shoes.  She tucked the towel tightly around herself and gritted her teeth against the stabs of gravel in her feet.

"Jordan!"

That was Amy’s voice.  Oh well, let her yell.  Let her scream her fool head off.  Jordan didn't care.

That wasn't quite true.  She did care.  But she didn't want to care.  So she was going to pretend not to care in the hopes that eventually she really wouldn't care.  That had always worked every other time she had gotten her heart smashed, stomped on and handed back to her.

"Jordan, stop!"

Jordan broke into a run.  She ran as fast as she could, given the circumstances.  She ran until she couldn't hear Amy’s voice calling for her and the only thing in her head was the sound of her own blood pumping hard between her ears.  Unfortunately, she couldn’t outrun her thoughts.  They came at her full force and would not be put off.

Was that all she was to Amy?  A way to make her boyfriend jealous?  Jordan was her girl-toy until Mister Man bucked up with a big old fat diamond ring, so he could whisk Amy away to Happily Ever After Land.  But why did Amy want to sleep with her?  She answered her own question – because straight girls do that sometimes.  Lord knows, Jordan had run into more than a few of those in her dating days.  There should be a rule:  One should not experiment with another’s heart.  It should be printed on T-shirts and bumper stickers as a reminder.

Jordan darted across a street without looking.  A car’s headlights blinded her for an instant, and just like the proverbial deer, she blinked and froze.  The car screeched its brakes and the driver laid on the horn.  Jordan regained her senses and leaped out of the way, but she was too late.  The car slammed into her.

Jordan rolled over the hood of the car.  She landed on her feet, thank God; nothing seemed broken.  There was going to be a big bruise on her hip tomorrow and she had stubbed her toe, but that appeared to be the extent of the damage.

Jordan briefly wondered if she had tried to kill herself.  Maybe her subconscious was trying to put her smashed heart out of its misery.

The car door opened.  "Jordan, is that you?"

Jordan spun around, expecting to see Amy, actually hoping that it was Amy so she could give her a piece of her mind – so she could scream “Why did you do this thing to my heart?  I may be a lesbian but I still have feelings just like everyone else.  Can’t you see I love you?”

But it wasn’t Amy after all.

"Petronella?" Jordan said.  "How did you find me?"

“I did not find you, Jordan.  I was simply driving my car and you found me.”

“Are you stalking me?”

 “I would’ve thought after that paint episode you’d finally believe me.  I am not stalking nor have I ever stalked you.  I am no Kinsey Milhone, but it would appear that the crazy man in the hospital gown is a better stalking candidate than I.”

Jordan felt like an overloaded fuse box.  But instead of a switch shutting off, sparks flew everywhere and exploded.  “I don’t care!” Jordan yelled.  “You’re all the same.  You take and take and take, then throw me away!  I was nothing to you and I was nothing to her either!”

"Jordan, calm down," Petronella said softly.  "You are obviously upset.  And wet.  And walking the streets with nothing but a towel to cover your nakedness."

Jordan wiped at her eyes.  She hiccupped.  "Yeah, well, tell me something I don’t know."

Petronella said, "Without footwear your feet will be cut and bruised."

"Again, I'm aware of that.”

Petronella walked around to the passenger side of her white Mercedes and opened the door.  She stood patiently like the footman who escorted Cinderella to the ball.  When Jordan didn't move, Petronella asked, "Would you care for a ride?"

Jordan thought about it.

Petronella waited for an answer.

Jordan didn’t have to think too long.  The decision was an easy one.  It was over five miles to her house and she didn't have a phone on her and she was mostly naked.

Jordan shivered.  "You'll take me straight home?"  She was fearful that Petronella would hog-tie her and read all her poetry for the second time in one day.  She didn’t think even Petronella was capable of that but who knew?

"Of course,” Petronella said with a smile.  "Where else would I take you?  It is not like you are dressed for an evening at the theatre."  She laughed.

Jordan nodded and climbed into the passenger seat.  Petronella closed her door and climbed behind the wheel.  She turned on the heat, put the car in gear and drove.

Jordan peered through the dark interior of the car at Petronella's profile.  Her every feature was angular and harsh.  It was like her face had been cut out of cardstock with an Exacto knife.  Had she really found her attractive once?  Had she really loved this woman?  Or was she simply in love with the idea of Petronella being in love with her?  Was that how Amy felt about her – that she loved the idea of having someone hang on her every word, kiss her soft lips, and want to take her to bed?  And why was she asking so many questions?

And now Petronella was saving her despite being interrogated and paint-balled.  Whoever was in charge of the universe was certainly strange.  Petronella pulled her car into the driveway of Jordan's house.  She put the car in park, but left the engine running.

Jordan reached for her door handle.  "Thank you, Petronella.  I owe you one.”

“Jordan?”  Petronella gripped the steering wheel with both hands and stared straight ahead.  She said, "You were wrong.  You meant a lot to me.  I loved you.  I did a lot of things wrong in our relationship.  I know that now.  But…” She turned to look at Jordan.  “I thought you should know that.  That you were loved.”