Part 17 (2/2)
”Sorry,” Linda said easily. ”I've already got a Gabrielle.”
With a flutter of eyelashes the blonde moved on.
”Oh, the travails of fame and fortune,” Marissa said. She nodded at the maitre d' and followed him across the main floor of the restaurant.
Linda pulled out Marissa's chair and they greeted the other three couples at their table. The day spent cruising and lounging was evident in a number of near sunburns, but one couple had had some success in the casino.
”We tried yesterday,” Linda said. ”Blew our budget in about two hours.”
”Cat's lucky with cards.” Marissa could not remember the speaker's name. ”Now we can buy more souvenirs for the grand-kids.”
Cat gave her partner a mock scolding glance. ”Jessica, we're not grandmothers, remember?”
”Yes, dear.”
Marissa chuckled appreciatively. Someday she hoped to be just as comfortable and indulgently affectionate with Linda as Cat and Jessica were with each other. They'd even had a child together and now were grandparents. Kids weren't in her and Linda's plans, not yet anyway, even if her mother was agitating in the worst possible fas.h.i.+on.
An uproar at the door brought all conversation to a halt. With a stamp of feet and clash of very real looking swords, female crew members in full gladiatorial regalia marched into the dining room, flushed and giggling. Their breastplates bore the colors of the Italian flag, and many had a face more red than her costume.
”They never get to do the march,” Cat yelled over the din. ”This week the cruise organizers made them make an exception. Woo!” She began swinging her napkin over her head, and soon everyone followed suit.
The cheering screams as the gladiators circled the room were deafening. Linda stamped her feet as Marissa tried to yell herself hoa.r.s.e. Impossibly, the bedlam escalated at the promised presentation of Bacchus. A chaise appeared carried on the shoulders of toga-clad men, but instead of die G.o.d Bacchus, it was the woman who owned the touring company, wrapped scantily in a toga and bearing the sign, Sappho.
After the chaise made a circuit, ”Sappho” stepped off to thank her bearers and made a little speech ending with ”More wine!”
The cheering resumed as the gladiators exited the dining room and calmed somewhat as the pianist launched into ”That's Amore!”
”Sounds like plenty of wine has already been had,” Linda said as other diners began singing along with the music.
Jessica grinned. ”It's high spirits. It's been such a great week so far and we all get to be who we are.”
”It's been a real reminder to me that not everybody gets to live where we live.” Marissa recalled that Jessica and Cat also lived in the Bay Area. ”We're very lucky there.”
”I met this adorable couple from Topeka and they are on Cloud Nine. One woman doesn't know how they'll be able to go back to the so-called real world.”
The waiter offered them their daily menu and she and Linda quickly agreed on what they'd split and share. By then the pianist had segued to ”It's a Small World,” and the singers quickly adapted the lyrics.
Linda chortled and joined in. ”It's a gay, gay world!”
Dinner was a blur to Marissa. There were so many good pheromones in the room and the wine was so wonderful that it all felt like something out of a dream. But most wonderful was the way she felt about Linda. The last year had been as heavenly as the first year had not. They both worked hard but every day, at least once a day, they said I love you and found a way to make the other laugh. They made love sometimes in quick little bursts of release and other times set aside a long afternoon to explore each other.
By dessert, though she'd only had one gla.s.s of wine, she felt tipsy. But when Linda tried to guide them down the stairs to their suite, she instead insisted on a walk around the deck. ”Come on, the dessert was decadent. There's later, sweetheart.”
Linda indulged her and they walked toward the bow, sheltered from the wind until they reached the foredeck. A good-sized barrier prevented them from going into the bow, but the wind was refres.h.i.+ng and it cleared Marissa's head. By the time they'd made a complete circuit, she felt much more focused, but the tingles of wonder and awe every time she looked at Linda were just as strong.
Out of the wind on the aft deck above the pool, she leaned into Linda and pointed out the moon rising. ”Remember that beautiful moon in Tahiti? The sea was so still that it looked like a magical pathway over the surface would let us walk right to it.”
”I have to say I'm really happy to be on a s.h.i.+p that has stayed afloat.”
Marissa squeezed Linda's arm. ”Me too, even though I got what I wanted and needed out of that experience.”
”Yeah?” Linda gazed down at her, and Marissa recognized the only shadow that ever existed in Linda's eyes.
”Don't,” Marissa said. No matter how often she told Linda she forgave her for that long, painful year when Linda had dropped out of her life without a word, Linda sometimes needed to be rea.s.sured. ”It's okay.”
”I could have sent a postcard from New Zealand, or an e-mail from any Internet cafe in Boston. I could have told you the truth before we left Tahiti, even.”
”It's okay,” Marissa repeated. ”The hurt is long gone.”
The shadow lessened, but it hadn't entirely left Linda's eyes. ”I want to spend the rest of my life making it up to you.”
”Okay,” Marissa said easily. ”Sounds like you want to get married.”
”I do.”
A little silence fell and Marissa's heart was suddenly beating like she had just finished a half-hour on a stair-stepper. Linda reached into the little waist pouch that Marissa had thought purely decorative and extracted something very thin.
”I'm not perfect, Marissa.”
”I don't care if you're perfect or not. All that matters is that you're perfect for me and you think I'm perfect for you.”
”Marry me. Please.”
”Yes.” Marissa's chin quivered and she looked down at what Linda had in the palm of her hand.
”When we get home we'll pick out real rings. But for now...”
She gently pushed a woven ring of blue fabric onto Marissa's ring finger. It was a little thick, but even through a veil of tears, Marissa thought it was beautiful.
”I made it out of what was left of that sc.r.a.p I carried to remind me of you. A real ring will replace it, I promise.”
She threw herself into Linda's arms. ”Yes, darling, yes. I want forever with you.”
Linda swung her in a circle, setting her down to kiss her hungrily. ”Let's go back to our room.”
”We'll miss the jazz trio.”
”Don't care.”
Marissa was already leading Linda into the atrium. ”Neither do I.”
Her reflection, the woman she was, was bright and clear in Linda's eyes. The lights were on, all of them.
Linda had already exchanged her costume for an old soft T-s.h.i.+rt featuring a small cartoon of a dog with a snorkel in its mouth. Marissa blinked back tears recalling all the nights she'd kept that s.h.i.+rt under her pillow. Linda stretched out on the bed, one long, lean line, and watched Marissa remove her sandals, then roll down and carefully remove her thigh-high stockings.
Marissa no longer felt awkward undressing in front of Linda. A year and then some of proof that Linda got very excited just looking at her in antic.i.p.ation of the moment Marissa slipped naked into her arms had given her the confidence to take her time. She sat down on the bed so Linda could reach her zipper and bra, and without prompting, Linda undid both.
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