INTRODUCTION: This is a romance, a love story. Love is a mysterious force; A force that is blind to gender, uncaring of any person's sexuality, relentless in it's tenacity to bring souls together so that lives might be more complete ... more satisfying ... more filled with joy. In this iteration of a love story, the lovers happen to be two women of very different backgrounds — but I already mentioned; Love cares little for details such as this. Love does not discriminate as humans do — so two women in love, or a man and a woman in love — even two people of drastically different cultures makes no difference at all in Love's eternal mission.
It's a big task, as a mere human, to do justice to Love's work with just simple words. But here I have tried my best, the rest is up to you Dear Reader to let your imagination soar along side of me. If my words let you down, do not blame Love — and remember, I am just a mortal like all the rest.
One small 'heads up'. If you notice there are no; 'he said' or 'she said' dialogue tags, it is not a mistake of editing — it's an intentional choice trying to make you feel more inside the story as it unfolds. You have permission to yell at me if I confused you instead. -- yukonnights
*****
PART ONE — A Night And A Day In The Life Of Angelie Aguilar
The place is busy, as usual. I'm doing my thing behind the bar, the live music is good tonight. But then, it's most always good, artists try to sell themselves to us — not the other way around. The thought comes again; I'm lucky to have landed a job here — not only is it one of the most gay friendly night spots in Flagstaff, it's one of the busiest too. What's not to like?
"Hi there Angelie, long time no see. I haven't seen Carol around town much either, you two still on?"
"Hey Brit. Nah, she's actually split town. Something about a sick relative and no promise to come back. What can I get you?"
"Oh, that's too bad, I liked her — you two looked good together. Just draw me two draft beers, what ever's the best price."
"Coming right up."
"Thanks Angelie, keep the change. See ya around."
And so it goes. Who could want a better job than this?
In a lull, I take a break and a load off my feet to sit — just watching the people. The Monte Vista Lounge draws an ever shifting crowd. It's always the same, just always changing. I feel my smile — is it condescending or just amused? Whatever, the tourists are the big money maker — they come for the history of the old place and their money keeps the bills paid. But the regulars are the interesting ones. Some quirky and eccentric, some somber and predictable. But checking out the steady parade of women is the biggest perk. Checking them out — making up where they come from and guessing about their lives back in Kansas, or wherever they live out their normal lives. Trying to figure out if they're straight or gay though, that's the fun part of tourists. There's never a shortage to check out — makes for a nice break and sometimes more.
As the evening draws to a close, I'm once again ready to say goodnight to the Monte Vista and all the crew that makes it work. My feet and back are no longer as interested in any of the pretty ladies and my bed sounds like the best lover in the world right now. But, it's been a bed all to myself for quite awhile — need to work on that.
***
Sunday is la familia day, time to get up. I love seeing all of them — I dread the question — same old thing every time. No mama, I don't need to find a nice young man. Her love makes up for any frustration she might bring me. I know they can't understand, it's taken me my whole life so far — I'm still figuring me out.
I bend over to straighten up the empty double bed. It's been too long. Carol's gone — just one message since she left. Time to move on — I'm too old to be getting myself off every night ... too old to be all alone too. Mama would say I'm letting myself get too old to find a man.
***
Looks like I'm early, all the better to get a good parking spot — my Corolla squeezes in nicely beside papa's truck and the lawn. The bag of food and I walk to the front door of my childhood home.
"Hola! Momma, I'm here."
I smile as she comes into the small living room from the kitchen. She's wiping her hands on a towel — I will be shocked if one day she comes to greet me with no towel.
"Give me a hug, it's good to see you Angelie!"
"You too Mama. Let's go to the kitchen so I can put this bag down."
I jump in to help her prepare the Sunday dinner as the rest of the family trickles in. Everyone has done well for themselves. I'm the family trouble, the odd one who can't get life figured out. I know that's what they think, they've all said it in more subtle ways. I gave up trying to explain it to them — just focus on loving them. Being the youngest, I know many things have changed for my generation — even I can't figure out the kids coming behind me, it's all moving faster and faster. I don't think it was like this when Momma and Papa were young — traditions have been lost. Just love them ... help them when I can.
We all crowd around the table, everyone talking and eating — laughter, as usual, is always the main ingredient. Thankfully, this day football takes the conversation — my brothers and even Papa gobble their food so they don't miss some kick-off. Thankfully, the talk is far away from me and also the advice I always dread ... and It's a perfect Fall day, time for me to say goodbye and get some fresh air.
By the time my sister-in-law and I finish the dishes, Momma has put the food away and packed some for me to take in the same bag I brought in. The guys are watching the game — I kiss Momma, wave at Papa and the others and slip out the door and into the sunshine.
***
With my Sunday obligations finished, I drive to the Schultz Creek trail system. The jogging trail that follows the creek always reconnects me with reality. Both my job and my family certainly seem to be ... maybe different is the word. The job is the opposite of the tranquility of this place — the family is always intense instead of peaceful. An hour or two by the creek sounds really nice.
Sitting on the bank, I catch my breath after the run. It's so easy to just stare, watching the water flow by ... reminds me of watching life go by. I close my eyes and just listen — the perfect medicine, the laughing water. I take in a deep breath of the fresh air, lightly scented with pine. Every time, I wish I could stay here — the Monte Vista with all it's noise and fun can't heal — can't inspire like this. I belong here, my imagination takes me back — the stories Grandfather and Grandmother told play in my mind once again. What was it like for them? Life so simple — so hard at the same time? I wish I could travel in time.
In this calm and peaceful seclusion, my wandering thoughts drift to making love. It's been too long since I've held and been held. Too long between soft kisses and whispered words — too long since I have tasted and been tasted. My hand tries to help, but the denim cloth resists. I press harder — I can go home or do it out here. I glance around, the jumbled rocks and boulders up the hill that shapes the course of this river seem to call out to me, 'come up here, let us embrace ....'
The climb up becomes more tricky than I thought once I reach the base of the cliff face, but it's worth it. Shielded from the trail and prying eyes, the sun warms my naked flesh. The rock I lay on is flat, but not perfectly smooth — I feel almost like a sacrifice from some ancient time laying naked and vulnerable under the gaze of the sky. It's a willing offering I make to Mother Nature, so alive all around and embracing me. "I need a woman, I need a lover," I whisper softly ... pray softly to the Watchers unseen. It's been too long since I've made the effort to find someone. My hand — my fingers will have to do for now.
I know I'm not ugly, but I'm no beauty queen. Mama always scolded me — no masculinas la joven — no masculine young woman. Sorry Momma, you don't understand. But I do, and I understand you too — it's okay.
Finally I must push Momma and every thought aside, with both hands I pleasure myself again. My nakedness out here feels so perfect — so normal. I put my discarded clothes between me and the rock — much better. My hands become someone else's hands, someone who is graceful and soft, her touch is tender. She is as enraptured by me as I am of her. I edge closer — make it last, I force one hand away to tease my breast.
Like a pot simmering to a boil, I toy with the flame — keep it just at the edge of boiling, without spilling over. But too soon, my resolve abandons me — my discipline forgotten, I let myself boil over, spilling my orgasm in a rush of sensations and pleasure radiating outward from my core! My muscles tense, my legs — my butt squeeze tight — I thrust up on my fingers that they may coax out the last of the release that leaves me limp — totally spent and laying naked under the watching sky. I drift like the white clouds above, my thoughts on lovers past and making up the one to come next.
After some uncounted moments of time I hear the soft laughing of the water again far below, I let my body relax, but I cannot move. The world all around me continues on it's journey — I feel small, but not insignificant — alone, but not lonely. It's a good day to be alive.
*****
PART TWO— Lauryn Lacomb Comes Into My Life
I spit the rinse water and toothpaste out of my mouth. "What do you mean they backed out? They offered you the job Ray. Coming here was just a formality, isn't that what they said? How can they back out now after we flew all the way down here? I already talked to my advisor and told her I'd be transferring to Northern Arizona University."
"I guess there was a mix up, said something about not everything they thought I said in the phone interview could be verified. Screw 'em. We should just go back home. I know I can get a job in Portland — we can stay with my folks in Vancouver until we find a place. You can finish school up there, it'll be like coming home."
"Ray, one of the biggest reasons you wanted to leave in the first place is because of your folks — now we're gonna move in with them? We're not even married yet — I don't see your mother buying in on that idea. She didn't even want me to come with you down here, if you remember. "
"We'll figure it out Lauri. I hate this place anyway — it was a mistake to come down here."
"But I like it. You said you liked it yesterday, before your interview. Why can't we just find some jobs here and stay? Why go all the way back to Vancouver — I hate Portland. It's too big. You said there was no decent work there and you were sick of it too — that's why we're here. Come on Ray, just relax and think this through. We can afford to stay awhile longer and see what comes up."
"I'm not into it any more Lauri, I think we can do better back home. Let's just go back and put this mistake behind us."
"Let's just get out of this motel room for awhile Ray — let's go for a walk at that place we were at the other day, what was the name ... Smith Creek?"
"I think it was Shultz Creek, but yeah, I need to get outa this dump. Maybe we can think better outside in some fresh air. I can't believe those motherfuckers reneged on me. Should of known they were a two bit company when we walked into this room they got us."
