Layce Gardner - More Than a Kiss

"Jordan, stop!"

Jordan broke into a run. She ran as fast as she could, given the circumstances. She ran until she couldn't hear Amy’s voice calling for her and the only thing in her head was the sound of her own blood pumping hard between her ears. Unfortunately, she couldn’t outrun her thoughts. They came at her full force and would not be put off.

Was that all she was to Amy? A way to make her boyfriend jealous? Jordan was her girl-toy until Mister Man bucked up with a big old fat diamond ring, so he could whisk Amy away to Happily Ever After Land. But why did Amy want to sleep with her? She answered her own question – because straight girls do that sometimes. Lord knows, Jordan had run into more than a few of those in her dating days. There should be a rule: One should not experiment with another’s heart. It should be printed on T-shirts and bumper stickers as a reminder.

Jordan darted across a street without looking. A car’s headlights blinded her for an instant, and just like the proverbial deer, she blinked and froze. The car screeched its brakes and the driver laid on the horn. Jordan regained her senses and leaped out of the way, but she was too late. The car slammed into her.

Jordan rolled over the hood of the car. She landed on her feet, thank God; nothing seemed broken. There was going to be a big bruise on her hip tomorrow and she had stubbed her toe, but that appeared to be the extent of the damage.

Jordan briefly wondered if she had tried to kill herself. Maybe her subconscious was trying to put her smashed heart out of its misery.

The car door opened. "Jordan, is that you?"

Jordan spun around, expecting to see Amy, actually hoping that it was Amy so she could give her a piece of her mind – so she could scream “Why did you do this thing to my heart? I may be a lesbian but I still have feelings just like everyone else. Can’t you see I love you?”

But it wasn’t Amy after all.

"Petronella?" Jordan said. "How did you find me?"

“I did not find you, Jordan. I was simply driving my car and you found me .”

“Are you stalking me?”

“I would’ve thought after that paint episode you’d finally believe me. I am not stalking nor have I ever stalked you. I am no Kinsey Milhone, but it would appear that the crazy man in the hospital gown is a better stalking candidate than I.”

Jordan felt like an overloaded fuse box. But instead of a switch shutting off, sparks flew everywhere and exploded. “I don’t care!” Jordan yelled. “You’re all the same. You take and take and take, then throw me away! I was nothing to you and I was nothing to her either!”

"Jordan, calm down," Petronella said softly. "You are obviously upset. And wet. And walking the streets with nothing but a towel to cover your nakedness."

Jordan wiped at her eyes. She hiccupped. "Yeah, well, tell me something I don’t know."

Petronella said, "Without footwear your feet will be cut and bruised."

"Again, I'm aware of that.”

Petronella walked around to the passenger side of her white Mercedes and opened the door. She stood patiently like the footman who escorted Cinderella to the ball. When Jordan didn't move, Petronella asked, "Would you care for a ride?"

Jordan thought about it.

Petronella waited for an answer.

Jordan didn’t have to think too long. The decision was an easy one. It was over five miles to her house and she didn't have a phone on her and she was mostly naked.

Jordan shivered. "You'll take me straight home?" She was fearful that Petronella would hog-tie her and read all her poetry for the second time in one day. She didn’t think even Petronella was capable of that but who knew?

"Of course,” Petronella said with a smile. "Where else would I take you? It is not like you are dressed for an evening at the theatre." She laughed.

Jordan nodded and climbed into the passenger seat. Petronella closed her door and climbed behind the wheel. She turned on the heat, put the car in gear and drove.

Jordan peered through the dark interior of the car at Petronella's profile. Her every feature was angular and harsh. It was like her face had been cut out of cardstock with an Exacto knife. Had she really found her attractive once? Had she really loved this woman? Or was she simply in love with the idea of Petronella being in love with her? Was that how Amy felt about her – that she loved the idea of having someone hang on her every word, kiss her soft lips, and want to take her to bed? And why was she asking so many questions?

And now Petronella was saving her despite being interrogated and paint-balled. Whoever was in charge of the universe was certainly strange. Petronella pulled her car into the driveway of Jordan's house. She put the car in park, but left the engine running.

Jordan reached for her door handle. "Thank you, Petronella. I owe you one.”

“Jordan?” Petronella gripped the steering wheel with both hands and stared straight ahead. She said, "You were wrong. You meant a lot to me. I loved you. I did a lot of things wrong in our relationship. I know that now. But…” She turned to look at Jordan. “I thought you should know that. That you were loved.”

Jordan couldn’t speak past the lump in her throat. She nodded. She opened the door and got out. She leaned back inside and said. “Sorry for the paint thing. I hope the dentist can whiten your teeth.”

Petronella smiled. “Ha, that was one time I should’ve kept my mouth shut. Goodbye, Jordan.”

Jordan shut the door and watched as Petronella drove away. It crossed her mind that Petronella had said goodbye and not good night. She traipsed across the lawn and to the front door. She rang the bell.

Edison opened the door and stared. “Oh my God, what happened to you?”

Edison’s voice sounded so caring, so genuine, it was all Jordan needed to burst into tears. Edison pulled her into the house and shut the door. She held her in her arms while she sobbed.

After a few moments, Jordan’s sobs quieted to whimpers.

“What happened?” Edison asked as she patted her back and wiped away her tears.

“Everything happened,” Jordan said. “Everything.”

The Marriage Proposal

Amy, wrapped in a towel, was sitting on the toilet. She held her head in her hands and made soft little whimpering noises like a seasick chipmunk. Isabel hoisted herself up on the cabinet and stared at Amy.

"Don't stare at me. I can feel you staring."

"Amy, look at me."

Amy peeked between her fingers at Isabel.

Isabel said, “I’m sorry. You have to know I didn’t mean to upset Jordan.”

"I know, I know," Amy said, burying her face in her hands. “This whole girl thing is so hard. Guys are easier. A lot easier.”

“You just think that because you didn’t care about the guys.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right.”

Isabel picked at a piece of imaginary lint on her pants and said, "You know, I did it with a girl once."

"You did?" Amy straightened and became all ears. "When? Where? Who?"

Isabel waved her hand like it was nothing. "Oh, back in college. Some softball player had the hots for me. She plied me with peppermint schnapps and we got friendly in my room."

“What was it like?”

"Kinda fun," Isabel said with a shrug. "Except she wanted a relationship and I didn't."

"I want a relationship. With Jordan," Amy said mournfully.

“We can fix it. I can explain to Jordan that you despise Chad and I was only warning you. It’s the truth, she has to believe it.”

“What if she doesn’t? I wasn’t exactly forthcoming about Chad when he came to the restaurant. I should have told her he was crazy and that we went out once. Now it looks like I was trying to cover up my relationship with him. That I was using her to get him.”