Judith stopped by to invite me over for dinner that evening, having heard about the near-rape from Marney, who’d heard about it from someone in town who knew Judd and Robby. Everyone was undoubtedly eager for details, which I thought might have prompted Judith’s spontaneous dinner invitation. Or maybe I was paranoid. Invitations did come late on the lake, and if you were already preparing dinner, then you put it in the fridge, and if you had company, then you brought them along. An opportunity for human contact was not to be passed up in a town with a tiny population.
I put on a pressed pair of designer jeans, a long-sleeved polo shirt tucked in at the waist, and tennis shoes. I looked trim and tidy and cabiny, but I felt oddly underdressed when Judith opened the door to greet me. Her hair was marcelled in rows of plastered black curls that rose and fell in tight waves against her head like a 1920s starlet. She wore an A-line skirt that hadn’t been popular for decades, and a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to just below her elbow. Regardless, she was a law professor, so I was here for an evening of smart conversation, not a fashion show.
Dinner was meatloaf and mashed potatoes and a vegetable medley, which was a term used when there’s not enough of one vegetable to warrant having its own name, so people start throwing in vegetable pieces and calling the thing a medley, as if it’s so damned tasty it might burst into song. I’d never had a delicious vegetable medley, and tonight was no exception.
It quickly became apparent that Judith was looking for lust on the lake. She gave off the vibe of a woman on the hunt—eyes lingering longer than necessary, as if she was thinking something she wasn’t saying, glances in my direction as if she was sharing some joke that hadn’t yet been told. She found excuses to touch me and made it look coincidental to whatever she was doing, and she laughed at everything I said, regardless of whether it was funny or not.
After dinner, she told her mother about the attack I’d endured, and soon they were debating the political state of women, rape laws in various states, and Supreme Court decisions, as my head swung back and forth like the court judge at Wimbledon.
“If Georgia, Alabama, and the rest of the mouth-of-the-South legislators make abortion a crime, and women go to prison for ninety-nine years for ending a pregnancy, then Roe v. Wade is dead, and we’re back to coat-hanger abortions. And that doesn’t even address what happened to Taylor.” She glanced away from her mother to quiz me. “He didn’t penetrate you, did he?”
I was surprised by such a personal question and the look she gave me when she asked it. The possibility seemed to excite her, but maybe it was just the debate.
Judge Robertson said, “Attempted penetration is intent to rape. The fact that he failed in his attempt makes it no less a rape crime.”
“Assault would be the charge,” Judith insisted, and the two of them bantered as if I weren’t there, perhaps energized by having an audience. I was bored and began looking out the window toward the Point when I thought they wouldn’t notice, but I saw no light.
Finally Judith said she could tell they’d worn me out and insisted on walking me to my cabin in light of my recent attack. I told Judge Robertson what a lovely evening it was, even though it wasn’t, and Judith and I crossed the cabin lawns to my place.
I could have sworn I saw Marney peeking out of her window as we strolled past. With her cabin situated between Judith’s and mine, she had the perfect view and could hide and watch our travels back and forth, as we became her human version of a deer crossing.
“Sorry for cutting the evening short, but Mother leaves tomorrow morning. My brother is picking her up, and she’ll be gone for a week, so she needs her rest. I’ll have the cabin all to myself.”
She stopped as we reached the birch trees, slid her arm around my waist, and suddenly pulled me in to her and kissed me. I was caught off guard, to say the least. The kiss wasn’t precipitated by some signal on my part that I was interested in her, but more on logistics—her soon-to-be empty cabin and my availability. I didn’t give Judith any sexual energy during our brief encounter, but she didn’t seem to need it. She was overheated and behaving as if our chemistry were amazing.
“Tomorrow,” Judith said in a guttural tone and ran her hand between my legs, then turned and left. Judith apparently did have a life beyond the buffet line, and I could end up being dessert.
Is every woman on the lake a lesbian? The water must have something in it besides leeches.
* * *
Despite Judith’s moonlight madness, all I could think about was Levade, standing in the kitchen, kissing me senseless, and telling me she wanted me forever and wanted me to want that too. It was still early in the evening. Maybe, if I went to her cabin, we could sit down, unemotionally, like two adults and just talk about what forever entails. Afterall, forever is a long word. Perhaps if I could have more time with her, ease into whatever she envisioned. Maybe she knows things about our future together that I don’t, and I’m just trying to catch up. I decided to go see her and attempt to renew our relationship. At the very least, I’d like to rewind to that amazing kissing session on her couch.
I literally jogged over to the Point, taking the road behind the cabins to avoid Judith seeing me headed along the lakefront in that direction. Besides, after what had happened with Frank on the wooded trail, I was wary about taking that route in the dark.
Am I actually involved with two lesbians in one night? The lake water must alter your hormones.
In minutes I was on the north side of Levade’s property, standing in her driveway. A car was parked there alongside her Jeep. Maybe someone getting a reading from her. I walked up the drive and whispered, “Hey, guys” to Charlie and Duke, who gave me a quick dog-sniff appraisal and then flopped back down on the lawn.
Across the screened porch, the living room was lit up and a small table set, and Levade and the woman from the horse show were having dinner. Levade seemed relaxed and was laughing, and she looked beautiful. The other woman appeared sophisticated and confident. Who is that woman? What is she doing here? If she’s from Duluth, she had to drive hours to get to the Point, which means she’s planning on spending the night. Well, obviously! The woman reached across the table and put her hand on Levade’s arm and kept it there as she said something. Levade ducked her head, appearing shy but happy.
I felt like sagging to the ground and whimpering. I was jealous, no question about it. One minute Levade was stalking off because I wouldn’t commit to her, and the next she was romancing some horsewoman. It’s good you saw this, my inner voice told me. You were getting in too deep, and this is your wakeup call.
I patted Charlie and Duke good-bye and walked slowly back to my cabin, surprised that tears were running down my cheeks. What the hell’s that all about? If Levade is happy, then I should be happy. At least she’s not alone. But now I’m alone, and I’ve never felt alone in my life.
* * *
At dawn, I heard a man’s voice shouting from the van to the red cabin, asking for items that Judge Robertson had forgotten. “She needs her sleeping pills,” the man yelled, and there was a pause as, presumably, Judith ran back for them. “Get a couple of baggies out of the kitchen, will you? And the brown sandals!” This went on for a while, and I got the giggles over how public it was and how strange the requests. “Animal Crackers on the counter!” That was the last thing I heard, proving she might be a judge, but she was also just an older lady who liked her cookies. The engine revved, and Judge Robertson shouted she’d be back in a week.
Literally half an hour later, I heard a knock at the back door, and Judith stood there in sweatpants holding a small thermos of coffee and two croissants. We drank and ate as I walked her around the cabin and answered questions about who’d owned it. Judith took big strides and waved her arms broadly, owning all the space around her. In fact, her mere presence seemed to shrink the cabin.
“My aunt Alice Armand and her husband Jake built it. Late in life, she sold it to her dear friend, who is also my publicist.”
“Why did she sell it?” Judith set her coffee down on the window ledge, making herself at home.
“She said it made her sad and lonely.” That memory popped out of my mouth, surprising me.
“We can’t have this beautiful place remembered as sad and lonely!” She pulled me in to her again and gave me a long, hard French kiss that would have decked a Frenchman. Then she shoved her hand down my pants and grabbed all my anatomy in her large hand, squeezed it, and said, “Dinner tonight. I can’t wait.”
I jumped back as if I’d just discovered a snake in my pants. “I don’t think I can come tonight, Judith.”
Judith gave me a wicked grin. “I’ll bet you can. And I have a surprise package for you. See you at six.” Then she kissed me again, winked, and walked out the door.
Damn, I’m not attracted to this woman. But it’s “a thing,” kind of like bear-baiting, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity that I’ve occasionally thought I wanted to experience. I’d had very lovely women in New York proposition me, but sitting across a table from them, both of us fully clothed, I just couldn’t imagine it being any better than, well, Ben.
Regardless of the quality, sex with Judith might mean I could “try out lesbians” and not have to worry about emotional entanglements. For Levade’s part, she’d made it clear she wasn’t interested in a sexual relationship without my swearing allegiance to her for all eternity, and frankly that hadn’t worked out so well for me. Ben came to mind.
And now Levade clearly has someone else, and probably always has had someone else. That romantic dinner didn’t just happen spontaneously. This has been going on for a while, by the looks of it! So time for me to move on…I’m good at moving on…learning not to want what I can’t have. So, I’m free to see whoever I choose, without any guilt over Levade, and Judith seems…well, logical. Then I thought about what I’d just thought, and I felt bad. Has it come to this, a “logical” romp in the hay?
It’s the woods, I thought, blaming my outrageous behavior on a bunch of pine trees. I’m with people I’ll never see again, in the fucking forest, and presto, I’m into sexual experimentation, at forty-seven. That may be the unseemly part.
The phone rang, and it was Ramona. She was correct. I was breathing a bit heavily, arguably because Judith had just taken an unexpected swan dive into my pants.
“What are you doing? Who are you doing? That woman, Levade?”
“Judith was here. The law professor from Minneapolis.”
“Another woman? Are you seeing another woman?” When I giggled, she said, “You’re a slut!”
“Ramona, do you think there’s a chance I’m gay?”
“As opposed to confused or fucked up?”
“I’m being serious.”
“I suppose it’s always a possibility.”
“Did you know that some studies say that women in their late forties have fluid sexuality and often find themselves transitioning out of heterosexual marriages and into same-sex relationships late in life?”
“You’re spending an inordinate amount of time researching this topic.”
“Let’s see,” I said, only slightly tongue in cheek. “I could enjoy being belittled, picking up his underwear off the floor, pretending I had an orgasm when it was more like genital rug burn, and cooking ten thousand dinners, or I could have a soft, sensual woman make love to me. Which would you choose?”
“Honey, I’m hard-core penis. All they have to do is open the door for me, protect me from snakes, and not fart in bed.”
“Why didn’t you tell me I could be gay?”
“There’s a lot of things I haven’t told you.” And she didn’t laugh.