Nether Regions (21 page)

“Who’s out there?” she whispered. “I’m so mortified.”

“Just Grandam and Clary, that’s all.” Sophie glanced toward the door and sighed.

“Oh no, what must they think of me staying here this way? I’m so embarrassed.”

Sophie took the cup from Delora and helped herself to a healthy swallow before setting it to one side. “Don’t even waste energy on that. They don’t care. I’ll get a little ribbing from them about getting laid but that’s only words.”

Delora looked curiously into Sophie’s chocolate eyes. She still felt the weight and warmth of Sophie’s body all over her. “We…I mean…”

Sophie regarded Delora, eyes beginning to twinkle in a familiar way. “Nope. You’d remember that and I would too. We’ve got it powerful, don’t we?”

Delora tried to act innocent. “What do you mean?”

Sophie leaned in and captured Delora’s lips with her own. The scent and taste of coffee on Sophie transported Delora to a sweet place. It plain didn’t matter that Beulah and Clary were only a wall away. It didn’t matter that Delora was married or that she was damaged goods, scarred by her husband’s brutal whim.

Delora’s tongue escaped her mouth and sought Sophie’s. Sophie’s lips lay warm along hers, and Delora could feel the shift in her breathing as the kiss deepened, the two tongues frolicking slowly as they explored new terrain. A bright heat descended along Delora’s body and her hands trembled as they tingled. She brought those shaking hands up to push Sophie away, but instead they moved along Sophie’s neck and breast and pulled their bodies even closer.

Abruptly Sophie broke the connection. Both women were shaken, barely daring to breathe, and Delora felt that strange dropping sensation in her chest.

“
Duvvel beng atchava
,” Sophie whispered.

“What is that?” Delora breathed out, the language piquing her interest.

“It’s a good thing we’re not alone. No, wait, it’s a good thing I
remembered
we’re not alone.”

She lifted Delora’s hand and pressed it to the heated skin of her neck. “
Krisi kommoben krisi chooma chor nongo ozi
.”

“That sounds so beautiful. What does it mean?”

Sophie gazed into Delora’s eyes and Delora knew. She smiled shyly, yet was determined. “What is that you’re speaking, Sophie?”

“Romany. The language of the Manu. I picked it up from Grandam and her sisters.”

“It says more, doesn’t it?”

“Much more.” She leaned in and briefly recaptured their kiss. She handed the coffee back to Delora and pulled her to her feet. “Let’s get you ready for work.”

Delora allowed the other woman to guide her out of the bedroom and into a short hallway. The voices of Beulah and Clary could be heard more clearly there; they were arguing about the price of canned asparagus.

Once they were in the bathroom Sophie unbuttoned Delora’s red shirt. Delora watched her as one entranced, as if watching an approaching tornado, knowing there is no place to hide. Four buttons down, Sophie paused and rubbed the back of her fingers against the rounded swell of Delora’s small breasts. The electric current generated brought Delora back to awareness.

“Sophie,” she muttered in a warning tone.

Sophie grinned endearingly. “But it feels so good,” she whispered.

Delora allowed her head to fall back. “I know,” she countered. “But we’re not alone.”

Sophie pressed her solid hips against Delora’s and moved their bodies together in a slow sinuous coupling as she sighed next to Delora’s ear, “Rain check?”

Delora blushed and nodded quickly. Delora refused to remember the scars.

Sophie backed away and pulled the door closed. “Hand out your clothes and we’ll press an iron over them. If they can’t be clean, at least they’ll be presentable.”

Delora finished unbuttoning the shirt with shaking fingers. She hung it on the outer doorknob and it was whisked from her fingers.

“Sophie?” she whispered.

“Yes?” Sophie answered just outside the door.

Delora pressed her palm to the door where she imagined Sophie’s face would be. “I just wanted to make sure you’re real.”

Sophie laughed low in her throat. “Hurry up, slowpoke. It’s seven already.”

Delora gasped and slid from her jeans, passing them out to Sophie.

Standing in the small bathroom wearing nothing but panties, Delora felt lost but oddly secure. The feeling was as if she’d found home again, that prehurricane world that fit her so well.

Touching a sheaf of cattail gathered together with wild honeysuckle as a binding, she knew Sophie had crafted it. Curious, she took a few minutes to look over the simple toiletries scattered about the bathroom. She touched the shampoos and conditioners, mostly store-brand products. A few looked homemade, and she lifted one vial and recognized it as the scent she most associated with Sophie.

A short time later, she emerged from the shower and found her shirt and jeans, still warm from the iron, hanging on a hook inside the door. Also included was a new toothbrush and a pair of panties and a camisole still packaged in the manufacturer’s shrink-wrap. To her amazement they were her size. After she dressed, she wasn’t sure what to do with the panties she’d worn the day before and eventually stuffed them in her jeans pocket. The hallway was deserted. Wandering to the left, she emerged into the bright kitchen. The door to outside was open and the air sweetened by garden herbs. Clary stood at one of the windows staring out. She lifted a mug of coffee to her lips but paused when she spied Delora.

“Well, there you are, little miss. A shower makes you feel like a new person, doesn’t it?”

Delora nodded. “Sure does. Thanks so much for the hospitality. I must have been pretty tuckered last night.”

Clary poured Delora a cup of coffee and handed it to her. She accepted it gratefully. “You and Sophie did most of the cleanup and you with a broken finger. I’m not surprised.” She let her eyes drift back out across the bayou.

“What are you looking at?” Delora asked as she doctored her coffee with sugar.

“Nothing. Everything.” Clary shrugged. “Do you like English muffins? I thought I’d scramble the eggs. Is that okay?”

Startled, Delora answered quickly. “Yes and yes, but you don’t have to do that, Clary. I can get something at the diner.”

“Don’t get her riled, Lora, honey. She can be testy if she doesn’t get her way.”

With relief, Delora saw Sophie enter through the screen door, hands full of fragrant greenery.

“Make enough for me, will you, Clary?” She handed Clary the herbs and moved to pull out a chair for Delora.

“Not a problem,” said Clary. “What have you got here?”

“That’s that new volunteer mint that came up. We’ll use it for poultices first if you’ll powder it up.”

Clary shrugged and placed it in the sink. “Scrambled eggs coming up. No bacon, though; I haven’t been to the store for a while.”

“Okay by us,” Sophie said as she took a seat across from Delora. She winked at her.

“Where’d your grandmother go?” Delora found she missed Beulah’s presence.

Sophie frowned and cupped her chin in one hand. “I’m not sure. She may be reading the paper. She likes to sneak off and read in peace.”

“The party yesterday was fun, wasn’t it?”

Sophie nodded. “It was nice seeing everyone all together. I’m sorry about Stephen and Righteous, though. I wish they could work all this stuff out.”

Delora tilted her head to one side. “Yeah, what’s going on with them? They were really tense late last night.”

“Righteous cheats. Stephen seems to think it’s because he works at the Thirsty Rogue over in Goshen.”

The coffee felt good in Delora’s cupped hands and the heavy chicory smell soothed her. “That’s a shame. How long has it been going on?”

Sophie passed Delora a fork and a napkin. “From day one, I think. They’ve had a rocky road.”

“What’d I miss?” Clary asked, sliding steaming plates before them.

Delora’s mouth watered when she spied the rich butter seeping into the toasted English muffin.

“Just Stephen and Righteous. They picked a fight before going home,” Sophie answered, shaking pepper on her eggs. “We were sitting along the water last night and saw them at each other.”

Clary put her hands on her hips. “Shame I’m not a betting woman. Those two will never make it.”

Sophie swiped at her mouth with a napkin. “No negativity allowed.”

“Hmmph,” Clary snorted and moved to the sink.

The fresh food was well prepared, and Delora embarrassed herself by how quickly she ate. Sophie ate more slowly, her kind eyes watching Delora with some amusement.

“You ready for work now?” Sophie asked.

Delora laughed. “I think so.” She patted her stomach, then rose and carried her dishes to the sink. “Thanks, Clary. That was delicious. Exactly what I needed.”

Clary dried her hands and held out her arms. Surprised, Delora stepped into a warm, full-body hug. “You have a good day now, little gal,” she said next to Delora’s ear. “I’ll see you soon.”

Sophie and Delora walked to her car in silence.

“She likes you,” Sophie told Delora when they paused next to the car.

“Yeah. I felt it. Felt nice.”

“I like you too, you know.”

Delora lifted her face to look into Sophie’s eyes. “I know.”

Sophie moved her face very close. “Aren’t you going to tell me that you like me?”

Delora captured Sophie’s lips with hers and held them a long, long time.

“I know,” Sophie murmured with a tender smile when Delora moved away and slid into her car.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Sometimes, when conditions were just right, Delora could see the sunset from the side porch. It was a short phenomenon. Widows Ridge to the northwest usually veiled the later, more colorful parts.

Finished with the dishes, Delora stood at the kitchen door, studying the sun as it bid farewell to another successful summer day. With a weary sigh, she opened the screen door and stepped out into the still evening warmth. She slipped her hands beneath her hair, palming sweat from the nape of her neck.

The loud pop and exhalation of compressed air let her know that Louie had beaten her to the porch. She started to retreat back inside, but indignation rose up in her. She had as much right to be there as he did, maybe more so.

He sat in one of the nylon banded chairs, slumped back like a great rearing toad. As she watched, he lifted the beer clumsily to his lips and slurped it noisily. Foam spattered the back of his scarred hand.

He swallowed with a mutter of satisfaction. “You know it’s just by the sheer goodness of my nature that I let you live, don’t you?”

Delora no longer reacted to the hollow wet noises he made when drinking. Or his threats. She looked away when he dabbed his fingers on the front of his Rolling Stones T-shirt.

“You hear me, Lora? You know how lucky you are?”

Delora remembered the shirt well. It was one she’d bought him when they’d traveled to Troutville to the monster truck rally during those first few months of freedom after high school. Those had been good times, in a way. She’d been so young and hopeful.

She sighed. The shirt now stretched taut across his thickened frame.

“Yeah, Louie. I know.”

She turned from him and tried to empty her mind so she could enjoy the evening. She’d become good at traveling to other places in her mind. She continued to catalog her environment, however, every leaf that had moved since the last inventory. One thing about nature. It was never static. There was always an undercurrent of motion, probably insectile. Weather dealt a hand as well.

Delora read once that there were ten quintillion insects on the planet, outnumbering humans by ninety-five percent. She had no idea what a quintillion was, but it was odd to think of those unseen populations. Nature’s constant ebb tide was evidence enough of their existence.

“You ain’t got nothin’ else to say?” Louie asked.

Delora thought about Rosalie’s anger. She had lied and told Rosalie that she had gone early to work, but Delora knew her keen eyes had taken in the fact that her foster daughter still wore the same clothing as the day before. Had she said something to Louie? Delora really didn’t care.

Delora took a deep breath and slipped inside as quietly as she could.

Chapter Thirty-Four

One evening, depressed and reluctant to drive the forty miles into Goshen to work, Righteous decided he was just plain tired and needed coffee. He pulled into the French Club. Inside, the wooden paneled walls gave this steak house just the right amount of shadowed ambience. A polished bar stretched across the back wall on the right. To his surprise, he saw Sophie’s friend Delora working the bar.

“Hey there, gal, how’s life treating you?” he said as he slid onto a barstool. “I had forgotten you work here.”

Delora smiled and he felt warmed by her sweetness. Sophie sure knew how to pick them. “Hey yourself,” she replied. “What brings you out this late at night?”

“On my way to work, over in Goshen. Just need some coffee is all. Need some energy ’cause I sure am not in the mood to work.”

Delora laughed and nodded her blond head in understanding as she moved to the coffee machine. Within seconds, a steaming cup was in front of him. “We’re not one of those fancy coffeehouses, but Esther swears by this blend.”

Righteous blew on it, then tasted it straight up without cream or sweetener.

“Good,” he said. “She’s right on about that.”

“So what do you do?” Delora asked. “Bartender? Is that what I heard?”

Righteous snickered. “I do whatever. I started out as a grunt at the Thirsty Rogue back when I was in high school. I carried beer kegs, washed glasses, wiped up the tables, you know. The hardest thing was cleaning up all them bloody bodies off the floor. They really make a mess.” His eyes roamed across Delora’s face, waiting deadpan for her to get it. His hunch paid off as she broke into soft laughter.

“You are some piece of work, Righteous,” she exclaimed, leaning her forearms and upper body on the bar. “How long have you known Sophie?”

“Man, years.” He sipped his coffee. “Since I was a kid. My family grew up near Lisse and seems like she was just always there. She went to school, like I did, though a lot of the bayou people teach their own at home. She never had no brothers or sisters and me neither so we sorta talked. We had gaydar even back then I guess.”