Wine And Peaches

I nervously sipped my wine while my fingers rapped a discordant beat on the tablecloth. I hadn’t been this edgy about a date since I was a teenager. But then my dates for the last decade had been basically the same, meet at the restaurant, share small talk, say you’re doing to do it again sometime, and leave. There’d been a few second dates and even a couple of third dates. But mostly I’d been too busy with work to spend much time on relationships. I had great friends and a job that I loved. That was enough for me.

I’d never felt any of the things people talked about when dating. There were no butterflies in my stomach, no sweaty palms, no excitement. Occasionally when I liked a guy enough I would invite him back to mine and we’d enjoy an evening together but there again I felt like I was missing something. There was no passion, no desire. A part of my brain always thought I could do it better and quicker with my battery-operated friend and save the calories of eating out.

Kissing was the worst part. I knew it was supposed to be hot and enjoyable but a part of my brain never got past the fact that it was just wet. And saliva was disgusting. When you really think about it kissing is really quite disgusting and very unsanitary. But then last week I’d been at my friend’s house for a party and I’d met Sam.

We’d talked away most of the evening in a corner ignoring the frivolity around us. Everything out of Sam’s mouth was interesting and Sam, in turn, seemed fascinated by everything I had to say. As the night wore on, we’d moved closer and closer until our arms and knees were touching and I felt a spark along my skin that made the hairs stand on end. As the party began to disperse we’d kissed, well Sam kissed me, just a gentle caress of lips and I felt like I had caught on fire.

I suddenly felt everything that I’d always been told was passion. My belly had made this weird swooping motion and my knees had turned to water. Without even thinking I’d pushed Sam up against the wall so I could plaster myself against them, to keep my balance and because I wanted to feel the heat of our bodies together.

When it was time to depart Sam had asked for my number and I’d given it willingly. But now I was nervous. I’d never felt anything like I had that night and I wanted to feel it again. But maybe the spark wouldn’t be there a week later, maybe it had been the gin and soda that had made my body tingle all over, maybe my mind had made it more incredible than it actually was.

I took another long sip of my wine, conscious that at this point I’d probably finish the glass before the date started if I didn’t slow down. But I couldn’t help it. My nerves felt raw and I wanted to instill myself with some kind of calm. I tried some deep breaths focusing my gaze on the beautiful rich tone of the merlot catching the light in my glass.

‘In… and… out.’ I mumbled to myself as I took three deep breaths my eyes never leaving my glass. I felt the flow of oxygen calm my muscles and felt myself begin to relax as my heart rate slowed. It was just a date, nothing to work myself into a state over.

‘Hey.’ Sam called approaching my table, undoing my work from the last minute as I felt my blood pressure rocket so high I thought the top of my head might blow clean off.

‘Hey.’ I murmured back, surprised that a sound could escape my lips.

‘I like this restaurant. Do you come here often?’ It took me a moment to process the question and I shook my head awkwardly as a waiter approached the table.

‘Can I start you off with something to drink?’ He asked Sam, who was glancing at the menu.

‘What are you drinking?’ The question was directed at me but the waiter responded and I thanked the heavens.

‘That’s a glass of the house Merlot, a 2018, very dry.’

‘Sounds perfect, I’ll have the same.’

‘How about a bottle for the table?’ He asked gesturing between us. Sam’s raised eyebrows seemed to be asking my assent so I nodded. Yes, more wine would be good. Maybe it would calm me down enough I could string a whole sentence together.

‘Have you been waiting long?’ I shook my head and took the last sip from my glass. No wonder the waiter suggested a bottle; at the rate I’d gone through my glass, we’d need two.

‘How was work?’ Sam asked, eyes flashing an earnest interest.

‘Good.’ I managed to mumble as the waiter approached with the bottle of wine and two clean glasses. We sat in silence as he poured a sample for Sam who took a quick sip and nodded. Then he filled both glasses and left. I took a sip from my own glass and then stared at my silverware as my fingers tilted my knife so it caught the subtle lighting of the room and flashed like lightning.

‘You seem nervous.’ It wasn’t a question it was a statement and a correct one at that. But I couldn’t think of anything to say and wasn’t sure the words would come out even if I tried. ‘Is it because this is your first date with a girl?’

My eyes shot to hers and I nodded with one tiny jut of my chin. She smiled indulgently as she leaned back in her chair, staring at me over the rim of her glass as she sipped her own wine. Her relaxed pose seemed to indicate that she wanted me to say something so I thought about it for a moment before asking my question of my glinting knife.

‘Is it that obvious?’ I mumbled. Her throaty chuckle disarmed me and I looked back at her from under my lashes.

‘It’s obvious you’re nervous but I wouldn’t have known why if I hadn’t run into Madeleine today.’ My eyes dropped back to my plate. Madeleine had been my friend since university, and she’d been the host of the party we’d met at. I didn’t know what she’d think if she knew I was on a date with a woman. Not that she’d have a problem with it. Her sister had been out since she was a teenager and Madeleine had been the one to give her parents a talking to when they’d referred to it as a phase, a story she told with great zeal. But she’d also known me some ten years and I was pretty sure this would be a surprise to her. It was a surprise to me.

‘You told her we were having dinner?’ I asked, and Sam leaned forward, putting down her wine glass and folding her arms on the table.

‘Actually, I told her I was very excited about our date and asked her if I should bring you flowers. She said you were more a chocolate girl but that that might be a bit much for you considering it was your first date with a girl. So I owe you an apology, a sincere one.’

‘You do?’

‘I didn’t know… the other night when we met… I just assumed that you were out. And that was my mistake so, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told your friend.’ Her apology was sincere and my stomach twisted with guilt. A part of me was grateful that she’d told Madeleine because now I could bring it up with her. Knowing she already knew felt easier. But it also made me feel like a coward.

‘That’s okay. I’m not out… but not because I have a problem with it, I just didn’t… know.’ As far as explanations went it was pretty weak but it was all I could think to say.

‘Know what?’ She asked, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

‘That I was…’ I couldn’t say the word and felt ashamed by how embarrassed I was. It was just a word and I didn’t have any problem with it, but I didn’t even know if it was true. I just knew that I really liked kissing Sam. And I really wanted to do it again. Even now, embarrassed and awkward I felt my eyes continually dance across the curve of her lips. I tore my eyes away from the delicious red of her mouth and looked into her eyes. There was an unspoken question in their normally clear depths and I felt she wanted me to continue.

‘I’d never kissed a woman before I kissed you.’ I rushed through the sentence and reached for my water glass to take a long sip. I wanted more wine but I was almost at the bottom of my second glass and we hadn’t even ordered food.

‘Oh. You didn’t ‘know’.’ Her tone showed understanding, as did the gentle frown on her lips. Her eyes filled with empathy and I wanted to run. It was embarrassing and not to mention kind of pathetic that it had never occurred to me before that the problem with dating might be that I didn’t like men.

It wasn’t even that my upbringing had been all that conservative. My mum’s best friend Eloise and her wife had been at every Sunday lunch for as far back as I could remember. It was just that it had never occurred to me that I liked women. Sure I noticed women, but who didn’t. Women were beautiful, in all shapes and sizes, there was something about them that always made me think peaches. Soft and fuzzy on the outside, sweet on the inside, and yet at their core was a pit so strong you’d crack a tooth if you messed with it. Women had always seemed comforting and yet stimulating at the same time, I’d gravitated towards them. But it hadn’t once crossed my mind that I wanted to be with a woman. Until Sam kissed me.

‘I know this is awkward.’ I spoke my thoughts aloud, the tense silence was grating my nerves and it was clear that Sam wasn’t going to say anything more. ‘I’m about to turn thirty and it’s only now occurred to me. I guess I should have experimented in college or something and figured it out sooner. You know, that I might be…’

Again I couldn’t say the word and I felt like scum. I contemplated the crisp white linen on the table unable to look anymore into her patient eyes. If I’d been in her position I would have run. That’s what you do when you meet crazy people with obvious issues. But she was still just sitting there, contemplating me, over her barely touched glass, her lips stained red from the wine. My god, I wanted to kiss her again and find out if everything I’d felt the other night was still there.

‘This is a lot for a first date.’ Her words dragged my attention away from the memories of our kiss. My mind had flashed me back to the feel of her smooth skin against the pad of my fingers as I’d slid my hand along her arm to grip her neck and bury my fingers in her hair.

‘I know, we don’t have to stay.’ I felt myself slumping in my seat, but not wanting to show how devastated I was. I’d been looking forward to this all week. The only bright spot in long days of work and confusion about what I was feeling. Plus I’d spent every evening staying up late reading articles about queer culture in the vain attempt that I might be able to get a clear answer about what I was feeling. Turns out, like far too many things, it wasn’t something you could learn from a book, although I had learned some things. Who I was and what I was feeling wasn’t something I could think through and find an answer to. It’s why I’d been so excited about tonight.

I didn’t want to leave but I wanted to give her an out. I wanted to stay here and see if this really was something happening in my life. Have the chance to feel into it. And figure out what it was I was feeling in the first place. But I didn’t want to her hold her hostage out of pity.

‘We can just go.’ I offered, reaching for my purse hanging on the back of my chair.

‘I have a different idea.’ I paused, my hand in mid-air. ‘I like you, a lot. I was dreading Madeleine’s party and feeling incredibly awkward till we started talking. I haven’t enjoyed a conversation that much in a long time.’ I gently nodded my agreement at her as I put my purse back in place and returned my gaze to hers.

‘I enjoyed talking to you too.’ I answered honestly, sitting up straighter in my seat. She didn’t think I was a loser, her eyes still held the warmth I remembered, and surely no one could look at someone like that if they didn’t like them, at least a little.

‘So maybe we forget that this was meant to be a date.’ I had to resist the urge to slide down into my chair and just keep going till I disappeared under the table. She wasn’t interested in me after all. She was just trying to be kind.

‘Yeah of course.’ I stammered trying to seem cool calm and collected but instead doing what I’m sure was a good impression of a child first learning to read. ‘Not a date. Not interested. Got it.’

‘No, I am.’ She spoke vehemently her hand darting across the table to still my fingers that had once again started to strum against the table. She left her hand on mine, her fingers gently caressing my skin. I stared at her fingers, her nails were cut short but she had a lovely shade of peach nail polish that made me think about the burst of juice the flows into your mouth when you first bite into the fruit.

All at once, the feelings I’d had at the party came rushing back to me. The bottom of my stomach seemed to fall out of place and a gentle tremor spread from my ankles up my calves turning my knees to liquid. It was a good thing I was sitting down. The liquid continued to rise, pooling between my thighs and causing my breath to quicken. I tore my eyes away from her gentle stroke of my skin to stare at her face. Was she feeling what I was?

‘I am interested. I just think you’re probably going through a lot right now.’ She was right. There was a lot going on, particularly in my mind where there were flashes of lips pressed against sweaty flesh. My mind tried to conjure up what it would feel like to press my breast against another. What it would feel like to pull against a nipple with my lips and feel the give of the pillowed flesh against my cheek.

‘Yeah.’ Was all I said. I tried to bring my brain back to the restaurant. I focused on the noise of nearby tables and the distant clatter of the kitchen. I focused on the feel of the chair beneath me and took what I hoped was a subtle deep breath.

‘So I’m thinking that just for now, for the length of this meal. Don’t think about this as a date. Think of it as, just a meal you’re having with someone.’

‘But I want it to be a date.’ I countered instantly, the words jumping from my mouth. I wasn’t sure of much but one thing I felt very certain of was that I was interested in more than Sam’s friendship.

‘I want it to be a date too. But I don’t want you to sit there all night awkward and uncomfortable.’ She had a valid point. I wasn’t exactly being my verbose self.

‘What about this, it’s still a date, but I’ll just pretend it isn’t my first date with a woman. I’ve been on dates before.’

‘And how were they?’ She asked.

‘Mostly horrible.’ I answered honestly as a nervous chuckle escaped me. She laughed as well and I began to notice that talking to her, being honest, had somehow made it all seem less of a thing. I was relaxing a little.

‘Well, I don’t want to be another one of your bad date stories!’ She teased and I smiled at her.

‘Not possible.’ I murmured.

‘Can I offer one little tiny suggestion, something I wish someone had told me back in the day? And then we’ll get on with the date, getting to know each other, telling embarrassing stories, arguing about music, all that good stuff.’ The lilt of her voice and playfulness in her tone softened the last of the tension in my shoulders and I nodded yes.

‘Who you like, doesn’t define you. Maybe one day, you’ll find a word you resonate with, a label that makes you feel connected to others and that’s awesome. But maybe you don’t. Maybe you’ll find out that you just like me, not women in general. I am pretty fantastic.’ Her last words were spoken as she rolled her eyes and pursed her lips. She was clearly being self-deprecating but I didn’t want her to be saying it in jest.

‘I’ll agree to that.’ I smirked to lessen the sincerity of my words, lifting my glass of wine in a salute and taking the first sip of my wine I could actually taste. It really was a nice bottle.

‘I’m just saying, don’t put the horse before the cart. Don’t try and solve it all in one day. Don’t feel like you have to tell anyone you don’t want to. This is about you. So just focus on you.’ The way she spoke, I could tell she was trying to keep her voice light but that there was something underneath. Maybe some pain she’d experienced, a story she might one day tell me. But it didn’t feel like the time to ask those questions. It was a date, after all, not an interview or a TED Talk on lesbian culture. So I tilted my chin down letting my eyelids fall as well in a gesture I hoped would mean that I heard her and I took her words seriously.

‘Now, however, it’s time for you to answer my original question.’ There was a challenge in her voice and I quickly ran my brain back through our conversation, awkwardly realizing I’d been so tense I couldn’t remember what she’d said when she came in.

‘And what question was that?’ I asked.

‘How was work?’ She’d leaned forward in her chair again, and since I was sitting forward in my chair as well, I could smell the honey scent of her skin and I took a deep breath to enjoy it before exhaling on a sigh.

‘Work was long…’ I answered honestly, and she smiled sympathetically. I launched into a recount of my day and the many tiny things that had gone wrong, leading to no serious problem but collectively being enough to make me think about quitting and running away to join the circus. She in turn told me of her own problems that involved her boss, the office assistant, and the mysterious case of a stolen bottle of milk that had escalated way too far.

I laughed as we had our appetizers, and I marveled at the depth of her voice as she recounted the many places she’d been on her travels as we ate our mains. By the time we got to desert her tone had softened to just above a murmur, as she told me of the parents she had lost. I in turn shared stories of my life, the funny ones, the serious ones, and even for the first time in memory, talked about my sister, who I never got to see anymore, with someone other than my family.

As the night wore on and the light outside faded, we were both bathed in the glow of the softly lit dining room and flickering of the candle on our table. I watched the shadows of golden light flicker across her cheeks. She was so beautiful. It drove me to distraction so that I had to continually remind myself to stay focused on what she was saying.

When we were the last guests left in the restaurant, the waiter politely asked us if we needed anything else, holding the check in his hand as a not-so-subtle hint. To be fair to him we had already done two rounds of post-dinner coffee, and even a dessert wine as well.

Sam reached for the bill and a hint of my early awkwardness returned. I knew the etiquette on any other date was to let the man pay if he wanted to, but offer to split the bill. But what were the rules when you were both women? In my moment of hesitation, Sam slipped her credit card inside the folio and handed it to the waiter.

‘I’ll pay you back.’ I blurted out. Not sure if I should offer to pay it in its entirety, or split the bill.

‘Don’t worry. I get this one, you get the next one, and so on.’ She offered with a smile. ‘I was the one who asked you out, so I go first.’

‘Okay.’ I nodded, wishing that there was some kind of lesbian etiquette book I could read so this didn’t happen again in the future. The waiter returned in a flash clearly hoping to see the back of us. We both stood and I grabbed my things off the back of my chair.

I was surprised when she took my sweater from me and held it out for me to slide into. I turned my back to her so I could slide my hands into the sleeves, and once it was in place her fingers gently caressed my neck as she lifted my hair out from under my collar. I felt a gentle prickle on my skin where her fingers had stroked my neck and I turned back to her. a hint of blush once again warming my face.

‘Now you help me.’ She winked, handing me her jacket and turning her back to me. I held the jacket open as she slid in each hand and then I guided it onto her shoulders. She didn’t have hair long enough to get stuck on her collar and yet I couldn’t resist sliding my own fingers along the back of her neck just to make sure each strand swung free.

She turned back to me smiling and then tilted her head over her shoulder with a slight bounce, gesturing that we should head outside. I followed her footsteps until we reached the deserted pavement outside and she stopped, turning back to face me again.

‘Want me to hail you a cab?’ She asked and I realized the date was over. Of course, it was, the meal was done, it was well past any hour you could call sane. It was time we went our separate ways. But I was disappointed. I’d never felt so devastated at the end of a night before, knowing that it had to end.

‘That’s okay. It’s easier if I walk down to the station and catch the train. What about you?’

‘I only live a few blocks over.’ She indicated the opposite direction to where I would be heading. And again I felt a not so small part of me, annoyed that our night had to finish. This was clearly goodbye and again I wondered at the etiquette.

In the past when I’d reached the end of a date and the goodbye was upon us, I’d felt relief. There was often a kiss, but the guys had always kissed me, and all I had to do was respond for a moment and it would be over. But I didn’t know how to initiate. I wanted to kiss her. I’d wanted to kiss her since she’d sat down at the table. The moment stretched and soon it would be awkward but I didn’t want to just say goodbye and turn away.

‘Can I kiss you goodbye?’ The question struck me as odd and I searched my mind to try and find any other time I’d been asked before I was kissed. I shook my head realizing it had never happened.

‘That’s okay.’ She said earnestly as I realized she’d mistaken the shake of my head for a no, rather than the discarding of errant thoughts.

‘No, I mean, yes. Kiss me.’ The enthusiasm in my voice sounded childish but I couldn’t help it. She smiled indulgently at me as she stepped in close and slid her hand up my neck to cup the side of my face. Gently she guided me forward until her lips brushed mine.

My lips parted as I tried to drink her in and savor her taste. She was a mixture of sweetness with just the hint of wine still on her lips and I had to resist the urge to slide my tongue against hers. My hand slid beneath her jacket of its own accord coming to rest against the gentle slope of her waist. I gently squeezed her flesh through the satin smoothness of her shirt pulling her closer.

Her other hand came up to cup the other side of my face as she tilted my head so that she could deepen the kiss. I felt as if a gentle heat was being poured through my lips and into my chest. It swirled within me sinking lower until the temperature became less soothing and more stimulating. My other hand had found its way to her shoulder and I tried to pull her closer but only succeeded in stroking my hand down her back as she began to pull away.

Her hands fell from my face, one finger stroking gently at my chin as it passed. My tongue darted out to try and lick the pad of her finger but she pulled it away quickly before darting it back to gently stroke the tip of my nose. Her hands came to rest on my shoulders and she arched her neck till her forehead rested on mine.

‘I had a really nice time tonight.’ She whispered.

‘Same.’ I stuttered still feeling the confusing effect of the heat racing beneath my skin.

‘Text me when you get home safe.’ She murmured and I rocked my forehead ever so slightly against hers in agreement. ‘And I’ll call you tomorrow. So we can make plans.’

‘I’d like that.’ I whispered. She leaned back in my embrace and I released her, letting my hands fall to my sides, missing her heat although we still stood within a few inches of each other.

‘Goodnight.’ She murmured taking two steps backward before turning and walking away. I stared at her back till she reached the intersection, she paused at the lights, turning back towards me and giving a little wave before she turned the corner. I should have felt embarrassed that she had caught me staring after her. But I wasn’t.

All I felt was content, warm, and maybe even a little giddy. It had been the perfect night, a dream date. I wandered toward the train station feeling as if I was floating a few inches off the ground. I still had a lot to think about but one thing I knew for certain. I liked a girl named Sam.