Maribel juggled the bags of groceries as she opened the back door leading into the mudroom. She was racking her brain for a way to close off her trophy room lest her secret get out too soon. She didn’t even want the damn thing, but her papa had been so proud. When they’d built the house together, he had insisted she should showcase her accomplishments by putting them in a place of honor. Over the years, she’d won too many competitions to count, easily filling the large space. When she began to exceed her papa’s expectations, trophies weren’t the only rewards. Her skills with a shotgun ended up pulling them out of poverty. Money was far more valuable than what she considered useless trinkets. She silently chastised herself for not gutting the room after her papa passed.
Setting the groceries on the granite counter, she began putting away the meat and vegetables. Before Blair could do much, she’d managed to take care of the food and store the paper bags in the cabinet below the sink to the left. Maribel watched Blair politely take in her large kitchen. She wondered if she was impressed.
The cathedral ceiling had a skylight in the center designed to bring in natural light. The wood beams contrasted nicely with the off-white walls. The cabinets were solid wood with a clear glossy coat engineered to bring out every nuance to the rich wood grain. Maribel had opted for a butcher-block island versus the granite that covered the rest of the counter space. Although she supposed the large cutting board built on top of the island was intended for use, she couldn’t bear to mar the smooth surface and kept it oiled, showing off the beauty of the wood. The open-floor plan led seamlessly to a large living space where her handcrafted stone fireplace commanded attention.
Maribel’s home was a far cry from the rickety farmhouse she had lived in for most of her childhood. She almost felt guilty for what she perceived as opulence. She wasn’t sure she deserved this luxury because she was good at shooting a gun.
“Wow! Your home is gorgeous. I can’t wait to see the rest. What are you? Admit it, you are a bootlegger. Oh, I know, you own a marijuana store, the modern-day equivalent. Except, marijuana is now legal.”
Maribel chuckled. “Um, no. I have a special skill taught to me by my papa. There are a few professional sports for women that can result in a decent living.”
Blair raised an eyebrow. “Do tell. I would have settled for having my college paid for. Alas, I suck at pretty much every sport.”
Maribel shrugged. “Prize money adds up when you enter every contest offered and people underestimate you. Sponsorships help.”
“Sponsorships? You sound like you’re an Olympic gold medalist. Now I’m really intrigued and impressed.”
“Don’t be. I doubt you would be impressed. Come on, let me give you a tour of the house.” When Blair’s head was turned while inspecting a sculpture in the entryway, Maribel closed the door to her trophy room and proceeded to walk by the room on her way to the stairway that would lead to the bedroom suites, guest and master. Maribel thought she had almost escaped the inevitable questions, when Blair halted in front of the closed door.
“Don’t I get to see this room?”
“No.” Maribel continued up the stairs. She didn’t have to turn around to know that Blair had a puzzled expression on her face. She wondered how she would react to the clipped, one-word response. She knew it sounded rude, but that would be the least of her concerns if Blair saw a room filled, not only with trophies but enough guns to be considered a domestic terrorist, if one was so inclined to make a snap judgment.
Once Maribel reached the top of the stairs, she waited for Blair who was tracing the handcrafted ironwork that made up the rails. She wondered if Blair was impressed or the style was opposite of what she might select for her own home.
“This is the coolest thing I’ve ever seen. The trees, mountains, and what I presume are elk go perfectly with the beautiful surroundings.”
“I thought so too. I commissioned these when I saw his craft. The guy’s a local artist that did a bunch of work for the multi-million-dollar homes in Suncadia.”
“That’s the famous mountain resort with the world-class golf courses, right?”
“Mmhm. I’ve been there a few times but not for golf. There are three excellent restaurants worth going to. I could take you to one sometime,” she offered hopefully. There was a big part of Maribel that wanted to wine and dine Blair. She was a bit old fashioned sometimes, and the thought of taking Blair to a nice restaurant had a certain amount of appeal. She’d even pull out her good clothes and try to make an impression.
“Are you asking me out on a proper date, Maribel?” Blair grinned and began fanning herself. “I do declare, I’m so flattered,” she joked.
Maribel couldn’t tell if Blair was teasing her in a good way, or if she was completely unimpressed with Maribel’s lame attempt to ask her out. “Um…”
“Relax.” Blair playfully smacked Maribel’s arm. “I was teasing you. I’d love to check out the place. Although, I don’t usually treat myself to expensive restaurants. In my line of work, salaries aren’t designed to bathe me in luxury. I’m not poverty bound, but I also wouldn’t dream of plopping down a hundred dollars on one meal unless it was for a special occasion. Even then, once a year is about all I can justify.”
“I asked, so of course I would treat you.”
“I think I’ll let you. After getting a good look at your place, clearly you can afford it.”
“I can. God blessed me with a talent I probably don’t deserve, but since my pa always had faith in me, I wasn’t going to squander it.”
“Whatever that talent is that you’ve been so evasive about, I’ll bet it was paired with a healthy dose of hard work. Raw talent only takes a person so far. It’s the elbow grease that makes things happen. Even virtuosos have to practice like eight to ten hours a day, every day. I’m sure it isn’t a picnic for them.”
Maribel wanted off this topic, so she began making her way to the master bedroom. “Come on, let me show you the master suite. I probably went over the top with the bathroom. In my defense, I use that whirlpool tub almost every day.”
“Ooh, I love decadent bathrooms.”
†
Blair’s mouth hung open, as she took in the generous space. She’d never seen anything like it before. Cedar stairs led to the marble, enclosed, semi-heart-shaped forest-green tub that was so beautiful she wanted to climb in and try it out. She could see multiple jets where the water was intended to soothe various parts of a person’s body. The bronze waterfall spout, shaped like a crescent moon, was the most unique faucet she’d ever seen. Her eyes traveled to the shower, and Blair was sure the delight was evident in her smile.
“Wow, I can’t believe you have a dragonfly on your shower wall. That’s stunning. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“It isn’t all that complicated if you find an artist that creates special tiles. Pretty easy, really, to embed the art work into the rest of the wall.”
“Do you need a roommate? I’ll just put a bed in this room and live here. Although, I’d never want to leave.”
“I’d be happy to have you stay here. Sometimes it gets lonely on the ranch.”
Blair couldn’t quite put her finger on why Maribel seemed different from all the women she’d dated. For one thing, Maribel didn’t seem the type to enter into casual relationships, and that should have worried her. But there was something so reassuring about having a stable, compassionate woman in her life, even if nothing transpired between the two of them. She had almost forgotten what precipitated the visit to Maribel’s, several hours before she had intended to come, when her phone buzzed in her pocket and she spied the name.
“Shit, I have to take this,” Blair announced as she pushed the button to connect the call. “Everything okay, Mom?”
Blair could hear the strain in her mother’s voice when she answered. “Yes, I thought I should tell you that your father has decided to stick around for a few days. I didn’t want you to be surprised when you returned home.”
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding. In that case, enjoy your time with the Sperm Donor. When he leaves and you’re still falling apart, call me. Until then, I’m sorry, but I can’t be in the same room with him.”
“He’s trying, Blair. He wants to be here for both of us.”
“No, he doesn’t. This is all about optics. He has to play the part of the grieving father because I’m sure the press has looked into his background. I can’t talk about this. You do what you want, but don’t expect me to participate in this farce. Bye, Mom.” Blair punched the button to end her call. She looked at Maribel. “That offer still open for a roommate? It seems like I might need a place to stay for a few days. I don’t think homicide is the answer. I look awful in orange.”
Maribel was nodding. “Of course. I haven’t showed you the guest suite yet. The bath isn’t as nice as this one, but it’s comfortable.”
“Oh, I have no doubt of that. Hey, are you sure? God, I’m just barreling my way into your peaceful life. I can always crash with Sandy. Forget I asked. Sometimes I don’t think before speaking.”
“No, really. I want you to stay.”
Blair sighed. “I guess I will have to endure the gauntlet to retrieve a few items, including my car. I know I want to spend my time here doing something that matters. I should not have been so rude to the press before, but my head was not in a space to capitalize on the exposure. Something seems so wrong about doing that. And yet, bringing awareness to important issues around gun control has to be worth selling my soul to the devil. I know the press doesn’t care one whit about the issue, but this isn’t an opportunity I can afford to pass up. Is it? What do you think?” Blair began to pace in a small circle.
“I don’t think I am the best person to answer that question. Do whatever your gut tells you is right, and don’t worry about what others think.”
“Yeah, everyone leverages whatever they can for the greater good, huh? It’s not like I’m advocating violence to further this cause. I need to do a bit of research later and find a group where I can lend a hand and get involved in a meaningful way. Spewing hate against Second Amenders is not very effective.”
“Come on, let me show you the guest room. I want to make sure it’ll be comfortable for you. I turned the third bedroom into a library, so if it’s not acceptable, the only other option is the master suite.” Maribel blushed then looked away.
Blair recognized Maribel’s attempt to steer the conversation in a different direction. She wondered if it was the topic or if all political activism made Maribel uncomfortable. That might be a big red flag, given Blair’s propensity to jump into the fray on the myriad issues she had a passion for. Blair despised individuals who would not take a stance. Apathy often led to tragedy in her humble opinion. People permitted things to happen in small increments, until the cruelties were impossible to ignore. Often it was too late when that happened. She decided it wasn’t the time or place to confront Maribel.
Opting for a flirtatious response instead, Blair answered, “I don’t think that would be a huge hardship for me, but considering the shade of red on your face, I’m sure the guest bedroom is lovely.”
Blair didn’t think it was possible for Maribel to turn a deeper shade of red but she did. “The guest bedroom is across the hall from mine, so if you need anything…” Maribel’s voice trailed off as she started walking out of the master bedroom.
Blair chuckled to herself as she followed Maribel to the large room with the window facing the mountain range. The view was breathtaking, and Blair wondered how she hadn’t noticed this view when they’d walked through the master suite to the decadent bath. She figured the blinds had most likely shielded the view. The sun shined brightly inside the light and airy room. Blair decided she would leave the blinds open so she could wake up and start the day right. Modesty had never been something she’d been concerned about as she often paraded around in the nude. Preferring light over dark, opening and closing shades wasn’t anything she ever bothered with. Besides, Maribel’s place was literally in the middle of nowhere. Who would see, anyway?
“This is a spectacular view. How come you don’t have the blinds open in your room? I’d give my left titty to wake up to this every day.” Blair pointed to the mountains.
Maribel shrugged. “I take things for granted. Skeeter gets grumpy in the morning when the sun wakes him up too early.”
“So, you let your dog sleep with you. Do you let anyone else in that big bed of yours?”
“Are you asking if I’ve had a girlfriend before?”
“Have you?”
“I’ve dated but never had a serious girlfriend. My papa taught me a lot. Courting a woman wasn’t anything he passed on, though. After he lost the love of his life, he gave up on love. Old movies were my teachers. That hasn’t impressed too many women.” Maribel stuck her hands in her pockets and swayed.
Blair leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. “I think your old-fashioned ways are almost irresistible. Don’t change a thing. Jumping into bed on the first date is overrated.”
†
Maribel wasn’t sure what to do after she’d completed the tour of the house, including the guest bedroom a few short steps away from her master suite. She’d never invited a woman to stay at her house before, and the death of her father forced her to rattle around in the huge space alone. Well, not alone. She had Skeeter to keep her company. Skeeter would even warm her bed. But that wasn’t the same as entwining her life with someone and sharing her bed.
“Um, we have a lot of time before dinner. You’d probably like a snack to tide you over, right?”
Blair shrugged. “I’m okay. I’ll need to head back to my mom’s house to grab a few things, including my laptop if I’m going to start my research on how to get involved. I’m so sorry, I keep leaning on you to come to my rescue. I’ll take another Uber so you don’t have to play personal chauffeur to an unstable, grief-stricken parasite.”
Maribel chuckled. “Parasite? I like being the person you can lean on. I have a lot of free time. It’s nice having someone to talk with. It’s no problem to drive you there.”
“I feel bad having you make the trip back into town again. It’s not like we’re two miles down the road. Are you sure you don’t mind taking me to my mom’s place? I’ll probably be in a foul mood if I run into the Sperm Donor while grabbing my things. Plus, I need to face the media and use the platform to make a statement. I’m just not sure what that will be at this moment.” Blair frowned.
Maribel was the last person who should help Blair with a statement to the press, but that did not stop her from blurting out, “I can help you work through it before we go to your mom’s place.”
“Not that I want to copy what others have said…Maybe if I go online and do research, something will resonate, then I can make the statement my own. Do you have a computer in this mansion?”
“It’s not a mansion and, yes, I have a computer. Come on, I forgot to show you the library. I left my laptop there.”
“You’re an angel.” Blair followed Maribel as she led her down the hallway to the third room on the second floor.
The wall originally intended as a large closet was filled from floor to ceiling with books. Maribel had looked at the architect’s designs and asked him to alter the room. She’d asked around for a specialty carpenter to build a solid cherry-wood library. The result was a spectacular handcrafted work of art with a built-in stereo system. Although it had been tricky to add the small fireplace to the second floor, she insisted on this special feature. This room was Maribel’s sanctuary, and she spent many hours sitting in her recliner, reading everything from light romance to the best sci-fi with complicated world building that transported her to a sparkly new fictionalized existence.
“Holy shit! This room is amazing. If I hadn’t asked for a computer would you have kept this from me like that secret hideout downstairs?”
“No, I was gonna show you this room after the tour of the guest bedroom.”
“I was kidding.” Blair lightly smacked Maribel’s arm. “I need to amend my previous declaration. Roll in a cot, add a mini-fridge, microwave and porta-potty if you can’t build me a bathroom, and I’m all set. I’d never leave. Permasquat.”
“Permasquat?” Maribel furrowed her brow.
“Yeah, you’d have a permanent squatter in your house.”
“Should I install a hand-held shower wand to a sink, like in a tiny house or RV?” Maribel joked.
“Great idea. But you’d have to keep stocking the fridge and add a hot plate. Microwave dinners will get old.”
“It’s only a few steps to the guest bathroom. Don’t you think you can make a tiny exception for a real shower or a bath?”
“I suppose. If I have to.” An exaggerated sigh caused Maribel to giggle. “Are you sure you don’t mind if I do a little internet research? I don’t want to come across as an ignorant hack. Do you think I’m being cold and unfeeling by deciding to turn the media stalk into a platform for social change? There’s a big part of me that feels…oh, I don’t know…just as slimy as them. I might have to use that shower after I come back.”
“No, I don’t. God puts opportunities in our path. We shouldn’t squander them. I never have.”
Blair wrinkled her nose, and Maribel suspected her mention of God had generated that reaction. “Is that what this is, an opportunity? It doesn’t feel like an opportunity. It feels like a tragedy begging for something to trigger the masses to action. Fuck, that was an unintentional pun that is literally making me sick right now.”
Maribel noticed Blair’s pallor had changed, and she reached out to calm her by rubbing her back. She led her to the recliner and directed her to sit. “I don’t know what pun you were referring to.”
“Trigger,” she pushed the word out on a puff of air.
“Oh.” Maribel reached for her laptop that was lying on the side table and handed it to Blair. She was desperately trying to redirect the conversation to stable ground. It seemed like Blair’s intermittent bouts of anger and righteousness were better than when she was second-guessing her motives or remembering the tragedy that spurred her need to take action.
“Thanks. Is there a password to get in?”
Maribel cringed. She wasn’t about to tell Blair that her password was skeetshooter25. The color in Blair’s face started to appear again. “Um, I’ll boot it up for you. Then I’ll make us some snacks for lunch. I have a decent variety of cheeses I can cut up with apples or grapes.” Maribel was babbling because she was nervous. She hoped Blair didn’t notice.
“Hmm, do you have stuff on this computer that you don’t want me to see? Is your password racy or something?” The corner of Blair’s lips turned up in a teasing challenge.
Maribel retrieved the laptop, flipped the lid, ran her thumb over the touchpad to activate the screen and then typed in her password before handing it back to Blair. She mumbled a quick response, “Uh no, nothing that interesting to see.”
Blair held up her hand mimicking the girl-scout-oath gesture and declared, “On my honor, I promise not to snoop around and look at your browsing history lest I find out all your deep dark secrets, like what porn sites you may have visited.” She began to laugh.
“Funny.” Maribel nearly ran down the stairs as the blush took over.