The Diary Ch 02 1

Disclaimers:

Mine. Two women loving each other. No violence (maybe next time). I suggest you read the first part if you wish to understand what is going on. Feedback is always more than welcome. Please stroke my writer's ego...it needs all the stroking it can get. :)

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The doorbell then decided to ring. I walked to the door, frowning in wonder as to who that may be, since no one I knew lived around and I didn't know anyone from around. Looking through the peephole, I saw a sweet looking blonde woman with sparkling green eyes, standing with her hands tucked into a tight pair of jeans, waiting. I smiled and straightened out my clothes. I didn't mind getting to know that cute blonde though.

I opened the door and smiled in greeting, "Hi. May I help you?" I asked politely. 'Please,' I added to myself.

The blonde smiled, two dimples winking at me from beautiful, rosy cheeks. "Hi. I know this may sound strange, but can I look around the house?" At my look of dismay, she quickly elaborated, "I used to live here when I was little and I was in the neighborhood, so I thought what the hey, maybe I'll take my chances and try to coax the new owner into letting me take a trip down memory lane." She smiled charmingly.

I frowned and paused in wonder for a moment, but quickly shook my head. When I saw the crestfallen look on my cute guest's face, I raised a hand to stop her from leaving, rapidly saying, "Sure, no problem. When did you live here? I actually moved in today." I moved aside to allow the happy young woman inside and closed the door. "I'm sorry, where are my manners, I'm Danny." I offered my hand and smiled at the hearty handshake I received.

"I'm Jeanie."

Oh my God!

That was the moment in which I was positive that one could swallow his tongue in full consciousness. I hadn't realized but I began coughing dramatically, trying to get rid of a non-existent irritation. The strong, sure slaps landing on my back brought me back to the present. I was happy to be seeing colors again, instead of that blurry picture of badly mixed shades of a moment before. Jeanie was standing in front of me, brows frowned in worry as she looked me up and down. "Are you ok?" She asked.

"Yes..." I wheezed. Hey, I'm an artist, I'm allowed to overreact.

"Here, sit down. I'll get you a glass of water." She hurried me to one of the scattered boxes, pushing me down gently before rushing off to the kitchen to fetch a glass of lukewarm water.

When I landed softly on the box, I felt something bumpy underneath. Reaching my hand to capture the offending object, my eyes grew big with shock. It was the diary; Jeanie's diary! Almost dropping the notebook on the floor in my hasty fumblings, I hurried to stash it in some place. Suddenly, everything was coming back, the scene I had just read, the meaning of Jeanie's visit, and the fact that I had to hide the notebook was the only thing left glaringly obvious in my mind. Before I could find a more suitable place, I heard Jeanie's light footsteps on the ceramic floor. In an instinct borne out of desperation, I tucked the notebook back to its former place; providing my behind a warm, leathery resting place.

Folding my hands in my lap, I tried to put the most innocent look I could conjure, on my face. By the time Jeanie made her way back with the glass of water, I looked like I had swollen the canary and eaten the Cheshire cat along the way. Jeanie looked at me with a curious raised eyebrow, "What's with you? Are you sure you're alright?"

I nodded enthusiastically, "Yes, yes, fine. Thanks for the water." I said quickly and grabbed hold of the glass, gulping the water down as if I had been in the desert for at least an entire month.

Jeanie smiled a bit crookedly, gazing at me in wonder. "Ok..." She drawled. "Do you think I could take a look around the house?"

I perked up immediately. I placed the glass down on the floor and said, "Sure. None of my things are here yet so it's pretty empty except for some older stuff left by the last owners. Feel free to look anywhere you want." I gestured her ahead with my hand and got up to follow right behind, grabbing the diary on my way up.

Deep down I was hoping she remembered her old diary and perhaps had come looking for it. Maybe that scene left such a lasting impression that now in her late twenties she would be interested in looking back. I know it's probably just my wishful thinking and that I'm way off, but a person can hope, can't he? I was sure though that she indeed remembered the diary and that the depicted scene inside had a monumental effect on the young Jeanie, and perhaps some interesting consequences on the older version. All I can say is, I can't wait to find out.

Jeanie roamed around the house in a leisurely pace, grazing her hand almost lovingly on the walls. Moving her gaze from top to bottom, she made sure her eyes captured every single detail of the interior. "Not much has changed really. Just a different color and maybe a little shabbier, but overall it has the same feel." She smiled and entered what I presume to have been her bedroom. Rushing toward the armoire, she squeaked in delight. "I can't believe this is still here. This used to be mine, and this was my room."

As if I didn't know that already, I sighed deeply. I couldn't help but follow her around the house like a lost puppy; beautiful women do that to me. My eyes rounded in a mock expression of surprised joy and I nodded like a maniac, "Really? That was yours?" I never said I was any good at acting, I'm only a writer. I watched as Jeanie caressed the dark wood with her soft hand and unconsciously began salivating. It seemed I just couldn't get that scene out of my mind. Shaking my head in anger, I tried to dispel the images and decided the best way to keep my mind out of the gutter would be to actually make some kind of conversation with her. Since she already considered me a freak, there probably wasn't anything I could do to make things worse. Never say never, you say...Well, you're right.

"So, where do you live now?" Does that make me sound like a demented stalker? I think not...

Jeanie didn't seem to note the possible implications and answered smilingly, "Just across town actually. I always loved this house and I guess subconsciously I just couldn't move too far away from this place."

I continued nodding and smiling, a combination that made Jeanie smile queerly in answer. Returning her attention back to her beloved piece of furniture, I decided it was probably time to give her some space and allow her to roam on her own. "Well, you go ahead and look around the house all you want, I'm gonna take care of a few things back in the living room." I managed to make a smooth exit and got back to the living room. Stumbling on one of the boxes, I yelped when I stubbed my toe on something hard. "Damn box..." I muttered as I grabbed Jeanie's diary from the top of the box.

"Is everything okay?" I heard Jeanie yell from one of the rooms.

"Yeah, I just ran into one of the boxes."

Waiting for a few minutes, I realized with relief that she wouldn't be coming to investigate and began scouring the room for an appropriate hiding place. Hearing soft footsteps approaching the living room, I quickly tucked the diary into my pants and covered the evidence with my shirt. Again, Jeanie caught me standing like an idiot in the middle of the room, hands behind my back, looking for the world like the most innocent retarded child.

Jeanie simply shook her head and said, "Well, thanks for letting me take a look, I really appreciate it. I hope your stay in this house is at least as nice as it was for me." She stepped toward me to shake my hand and prepared to leave. I had to think quickly; there had to be something I could do to make her stay longer or at least to get her to see me again.

"Say, would you like to get some coffee together sometime? You know, to talk about the old days, when you used to live here and all." That was the best I could think of. And I call myself a writer...

Jeanie smiled crookedly, not really comprehending, "Um, sure. But you just moved in, how could we possibly talk about the 'old days'?"

I was beginning to sweat a bit. "Well, I meant the old days for you. When you used to live here, way back when. Those old days." I rambled like an idiot. Do you notice a certain pattern here?

Jeanie chuckled slightly, "Oh, those old days. Okay, sounds good. Here's my phone number, call me when you'd like to do this." She handed me a business card with her name and phone number. It said, "Jeanie Byrd, freelance writer." Imagine my surprise.

"You're a writer too?"

She looked at me in wonder, "Yes. What do you mean too?"

"I'm also a writer. I mostly write fiction though."

"Really? That's so great. I write just about anything I'm given. Though I do indulge in some fiction writing from time to time." She whispered in a low tone, making me shiver in my boots. So what if I didn't have boots, she still made me shiver.

"Okay then, I'll call you."

"Great. Talk to you soon. Bye." She said and left.

I sighed in both relief and sadness. That afternoon was sure looking up. After Jeanie left, I took the diary out of my pants, note the irony, and laid it somewhere safe. I spent the rest of the day unpacking as much as I could and when it was time to go to bed, I took the diary as my companion. Needless to say that I fell asleep with that scene firmly embedded into my brain cells, full color and surround sound included.

The following week was as hectic as the last for me. I took the time to unpack the rest of my boxes and my new house was finally beginning to look like an inhabited dwelling. It was the weekend when I finally gathered up my courage to pick up the phone and call Jeanie. I had spent every single night of the past week falling asleep with her diary and dreaming of her beautiful face contorted in ecstasy. You can just imagine what my libido felt like.

Sweating profusely and shaking all over, I finally picked up the phone and dialed. When a masculine voice answered I nearly hung up. However, the thought that it might be one of her friends, or her visiting brother stopped me. "Hello? May I speak with Jeanie?" I asked smoothly.

"Hello. Who's this?" The man asked politely.

"Um, this is Danny. I live where she used to when she was little." I explained weakly, in a voice hardly my own.

The man on the other end suddenly perked up, "Oh yeah, she told me she saw her old house last week. Well anyhow, here she is." I heard Jeanie asking who was on the phone when he handed her the receiver.

"Hello?" Her soft voice reverberated in my ear.

"Hi. This is Danny, remember? From the house."

"Oh yeah, hi Danny!" I could hear the smile right through.

"Um, I was wondering if you'd like to get together for a cup of coffee or something?" I really sucked at this.

"Sure, I'm free today if you'd like."

I immediately perked up, "Yeah, sounds great. Do you know that place on the corner of 5th street? It's a little diner called Maggie's."

"Of course I know it. I used to go there all the time when I was little. Great, so when should I meet you there?"

"How about in an hour?"

"Perfect. I'll see you there."

I hung up; my smile was so large that I thought my face would split in two. The thought that a man had picked up Jeanie's phone had completely disappeared from my mind; for the moment.

The diner was in walking distance from my house and I reached the place ten minutes early. Picking out one of the window seats, I plopped on the red vinyl bench and pushed myself all the way toward the wall. I fiddled with the menu, then moved on to the napkins and finally decided to lace my fingers together and simply wait. Finally, right on time, Jeanie arrived. I looked up from the table to see her plop on the couch in front of me and smile. "Hey!"

A smile immediately emerged on my lips, "Hi."

We sat in silence for a minute until I thought my head might explode if I didn't find something, anything to say. "So, how are you?" You probably can't get any more banal than that.

"I'm fine. Been writing a little. I have a new project I'm working on, about traveling and tourism. How about you?"

"Oh nothing much. I've been unpacking most of the week and haven't really had the time to write anything. I've started a new novel but I've been lazy about it lately."

"Yeah, I know what that's like. When you don't have the muse, you can lose interest. But it comes back, trust me and then it turns out better than ever."

I smiled in thanks, "Yeah, been there done that. So, you live alone?" I'm not sure where that question came from, or if I was in my right mind when I asked it, but apparently the sound of that male voice was still ringing loudly in my ears.

Jeanie looked at me, puzzled, "Um, no. I live with my boyfriend." She didn't seem to mind the question, but I began to mind my question. Somehow, ignorance seemed better at that moment.

Deep down I suspected her having a boyfriend, but I simply refused to allow myself to believe. Now that the truth was staring me in the face, literally, I wasn't sure how to react. "Oh, that's nice." God, I hope I didn't sound like I had swallowed an entire bowl of sour crout, as I imagined I did.

"What about you? Have that big house all to yourself?"

"Yep, yep. Just me and my lonesome."

The conversation seemed to deteriorate from that moment on, until we got our coffees. As we sat drinking leisurely, conversation picked up a bit. I learned many things about Jeanie that day. For instance, I learned she liked sea food, that she enjoyed the movies and a bit of good 'ole country music, that her favorite color was yellow and that she loved reading Victorian novels. I felt like I was on a date with that beautiful woman, until it was time to leave. That was when reality sneaked in and whispered cruelly in my ear, "She's going home to her boyfriend, and you're going home alone."

I gritted my teeth as we shook hands. My teeth ground harder, pressing my molars together when she pulled me into a friendly hug and thanked me for the invitation. "We should do this again sometime." She said. I quickly agreed and we parted ways.

I wasn't sure if I could stand another such meeting again, but I wasn't sure if I could stand never seeing her again either. As I was sure things would happen, it took me but a few days to call her and ask her out again. From that moment on, we started growing closer, and before either of us realized, we were becoming fast friends. Best friends. We reached a point that a day didn't pass without us having talked to each other at least once. I had met her boyfriend on one of our "dates" and I believe it's needless to say how I felt. I will grudgingly admit he is a decent guy, but I still believe he's not right for her. Don't get me wrong, I don't think I would be perfect for her either. I think no one is good enough for her, but I'm at least better than her boyfriend. Let's just say, the guy never came out with us again after that night. Like I said, it was alright, but it isn't my fault if he felt like a third wheel.

It's been two months since that fateful day when I moved into this house. I've grown to love it more and more each day, and it has nothing to do with Jeanie's part in it. I swear. Really.

Anyhow, I was partaking in a bit of writing when my phone rang. Knowing that it was probably Jeanie, I rushed to pick it up, "Hey."

My heart constricted and jumped into my throat when I heard her sniffle softly, "Hey."

"Babe, what's the matter?" I asked, concern lacing my every word.

"Me and Ray had a huge fight and I think we just broke up." She said and started crying.

"Oh honey, I'm so sorry." No I wasn't. "Want me to come over?" But the friend in me couldn't allow for such suffering on my sweetest friend's part.

"No, I don't want to be here right now. Can I come over?" She asked in such a small voice it almost made me start crying myself.

"Of course, honey. You know you never have to ask."

Fifteen minutes later I heard my doorbell ringing. I pulled open the door and wrapped my arms around the crying figure of my best friend. She was so soft and warm. I loved holding her and it was one of my guilty pleasures. Holding her tightly around the waist, I pulled her to the couch and sat her down. I rocked her for several minutes, whispering soft reassurances into her ear and stroking her silky hair back from her face. I had come out to her at the beginning of our friendship in order to eliminate any possibly awkward situations in the future, and she accepted it smoothly, so I had no qualms about being my true self when I was around her. Though I believe anyone would have acted the same way at the face of such a crisis. Finally, the tears stopped, leaving in their wake tiny hiccups of exhaustion.

I pulled back slightly and pushed a few strands of hair away from her face, "Better baby?"

She nodded slowly and put her head back on my shoulder.

"Want to tell me what happened?" I asked gently.

She sniffed and said in a small voice, "He came home from work all pissed off and it seemed like he was looking to start a fight. Then somehow we got to talking about you and he started yelling that I've been spending more time with you than with him." Tears started to flow down her flushed face again.

Unable to do anything but offer a shoulder to cry on, I pulled her closer and rocked her until she calmed down.

"Then he started accusing me of stuff and we both started yelling until he got up and left."

"What did he accuse you of?"

She chuckled humorlessly, "He accused me of cheating on him, of causing all his problems. I'm surprised he didn't accuse me of global warming."

I chuckled, "Hey, at least you haven't lost your sense of humor." When I got a menacing look topped with a raised eyebrow, I zipped my mouth shut and looked down sheepishly.

Jeanie wrapped her arms tighter around my back and burrowed her head deeper into my neck. "I'm sorry. Thank you for being here for me."

Smiling, I kissed the top of her blonde head, "Anytime baby. Anytime."

We spent the rest of the day doing nothing but eating junk food, watching TV and cuddling on the sofa; my three favorite pass time activities. When it had turned dark outside, Jeanie asked if she could stay. I tried to hide my obvious delight when I answered in a cool and controlled voice, that she was more than welcomed. She hugged me and went to the bathroom to prepare for bed.

I swallowed thickly when she stepped out of the bathroom in one of my longer shirts and nothing else. "Can I sleep here with you?" She asked in a tiny voice.

I was positive she was doing this on purpose, torturing poor me, waiting and wanting for me to crack. I gathered my resolve and told I had no problem with that. When she got in bed I was sure I wasn't going to die of old age, since I knew I was going to perish right in that moment. Her small, tight body pressed to mine as she cuddled closely into me. "Comfy?" I asked through the ball of dread lodged in my throat.

"Mmm." She murmured contentedly.

Her breathing soon evened out as she fell into a deep, relaxed sleep. It took me several hours of hell to finally relax enough to fall into a light sleep. However, I was still very much aware of everything that was going on around me. I think it was about 3am when I felt my friend stir. I knew it couldn't have been her hand that was making lazy circles on my stomach, trying to drive me insane. It couldn't possibly be her leg that stretched over mine and lodged itself in between to press intimately into my heated core. I kept telling myself that as her body moved closer still, almost mounting me from the side. Finally, I managed to find my tongue and stuttered, "What...uh...what are you doing? Jeanie?"