“I really enjoyed that,” Tyna said as she picked up the empty popcorn bucket.
Milla collected the Twizzler wrapper and empty tanker cup that had held diet soda. “So did I. I can’t believe it’ll be a year before we see part two.”
Looking over her shoulder, Tyna said, “Would you like to make a date now?”
The question caught Milla off-guard. True, when they’d met in front of the theater earlier in the evening they’d shared an awkward but definitely fervent hug. But exactly how much would she be revealing if she let out the “Yes” clamped behind her teeth?
Tyna reached the bottom of the theater steps in the slow-moving exit queue and once again looked back over her shoulder. “You should see your face right now. It’s not like I just proposed marriage.”
Milla blushed so furiously she felt the heat on the back of her neck. She was hot other places, but that had persisted the moment she’d seen Tyna wrapped up in her wool coat with that improbable red cap hiding her curls.
The silence grew increasingly awkward as they left the theater. The sharp wind provided a partial excuse. Milla wrapped her muffler around her neck and ears and Tyna pulled her cap down more firmly. Ice on the sidewalk required them to step carefully.
She felt like a horny teenager because it was hard to keep her thoughts from imagining the soft skin on Tyna’s shoulders, the swell of her breasts and the sweetness of her kisses. She wanted to believe it was because it had been a really long time since she’d sat next to an eligible woman for two and a half hours, let alone done anything more intimate than that. Lust was safe, predictable even. Lust could be overcome. She’d done it before and could do it again.
Scarier thoughts, like the way her heart had seemed to skip in her chest when she’d seen Tyna dashing through the icy rain, couldn’t be given any space to breed. She had to report for duty in a couple of weeks. She could handle a holiday hook-up. Except it didn’t feel like a holiday hook-up. There was more than lust in her thoughts, like how nice it was to talk to someone who didn’t have to listen, but seemed to want to. That Tyna’s teasing air touched something deep inside her that was located below her brain and above her waist that wasn’t used to feeling warm.
She wasn’t opposed to that feeling, not at all. She liked it. But when she shipped out what chance did it have to survive? She’d seen what separation did to her buddies — men and women who were madly in love with their wives and husbands and still couldn’t keep true. Plenty of them wished they hadn’t tied the knot before their deployments. But they all said the same thing — they also couldn’t live with the regret of not having tried.
They reached Tyna’s car, a good condition but at least ten year-old Volvo. The weather was too foul to window shop the way they had yesterday and yet she didn’t want to say goodbye.
“Did I put you off?” Tyna turned to face her, using the meager shelter of a streetlight from some of the wind.
“No— I— The future is hard to predict.” Milla forced herself not to stare at the ground like an awkward schoolchild.
“Depends on how far in the future you want to go.”
“I — I am thinking about the next few days and weeks. I would like to think I can predict a natural course of events between us from here. If we, you know, continue to meet up.” She gave Tyna a sideways look and got a nod with a shy smile. “But I want to look farther forward than that and I just can’t. That’s frustrating.”
“And a little scary, at least for me.”
The streetlight creaked a little in the wind and Milla looked up. “Well, I can predict what happens when a pretty girl stands under mistletoe.”
Tyna looked startled, then glanced up and blushed furiously. But she didn’t back away or put up a warning hand. Green light, Milla thought.
She had to stoop, just a little, to press her lips to Tyna’s. All at once she was aware of the scrubbed-clean sunshine smell of Tyna’s hair and how quickly Tyna was breathing. She kept her hands behind her back, though they were suddenly clammy inside her snow gloves, and let all the sensation her lips could convey wash over her like a hot wave. As soon as she lifted her lips the inside of her body exploded with a New Year’s Eve of whistles and bells and cheers of abandon.
“The mistletoe is fake, but there was nothing fake about that,” Tyna said. They were still very close together.
Milla broke into a smile. “That was definitely a Made-in-the-USA-Grade-A kiss. I could definitely go for a whole plateful.”
A gust of cold air carrying a strong hint of returning rain blew Tyna’s hair into her eyes. She clawed at it and peered at Milla. “This isn’t the best place to have this discussion.”
“Would you like some coffee? A bite to eat?”
“Sure. Coffee would be great.”
They agreed on the diner at the next corner. It was blissfully warm inside, but there was a short wait for a table.
Tyna patted her coat pockets and fished out her phone. “I have a voicemail I think. I felt it hum during the movie. Can you believe that guy in our row answered a call?”
Milla began her assessment of the jerkwad’s rudeness, but Tyna made a sad face as she listened to her message. “What is it?”
“I’m so sorry. A parishioner in need. I have to go.”
She had a clear sense of urgency, so Milla quickly ushered her back to her car. Their parting kiss was little more than a peck. Even though the rain was definitely coming down now she watched until Tyna had safely pulled away from the curb.
Head down, physically split between arousal and disappointment, she slipped and slid her way to her mother’s valiant Ford. Maybe they could watch It’s a Wonderful Life. It was her mom’s favorite holiday movie.
She was sitting in the car, letting the engine warm up, when her phone played a few bars of “Angel of the Morning” and then repeated them. She flushed and answered. “You okay?”
“Yes — I’m sorry I had to go. I’ll be all night, likely. Would you like to have breakfast? There’s a café a block south of Youngstown General.”
“You mean The Waiting Room? Sure. Around nine?”
“Sounds perfect.” Tyna’s voice faded, then steadied. “And you should bring an appetite.”
Puzzled, Milla said, “I’m always hungry in the morning.”
Tyna laughed. “You said you wanted a plateful and I didn’t think you were talking about food.”
It was a good thing Tyna hung up because even if Milla could have thought of something to say there was no way she could have said it.