by
Donna Charles
Jessenia was unwrapping the fire yellow bathrobe to reveal naked almond skin. The steam from the shower still rose from her neck, inviting me for a dip in that luscious pool. I could feel the warmth and softness of her breath on my ear.

The mirage shattered completely. I bolted upright and cursed Mr. Alexander Graham Bell for having ever existed and creating. "Hell--o." "Hey babe, are ya up?" Of course it was Kat.

"I am now."

"Great! Sorry. We need to talk. Actually, I need to talk. I'll be over in five. And I've got breakfast."

"Yeah, see ya."

"Bye love."

I stumbled out of bed refusing to open my eyes. I unlocked the door for her highness and fell in the bathroom for the morning pee. Kat arrived just as I flushed. She breezed into my little apartment dressed for high society - black raw silk pants, cream-colored top with mock turtleneck and short sleeves. She had a black silk scarf, dotted with cream-colored swans, tossed around her neck. And of course she was perfectly made up. How anyone looks that glamorous at seven a.m. is beyond me. But that's Kat--Glamour Dyke Extraordinaire!

Kat dropped a bag of muffins on the counter as she headed for the pantry. She reappeared in my bedroom with everything tossed haphazardly on a tray, the carton of milk (thank goodness it wasn't opened) under her arm. She is not as skilled at the art of food presentation as she is at Kat presentation. The fact that she brought my best (read only) champagne glasses, prepared me for some splendid tale of everlasting love--no make that some everlasting tale of splendid sex. But she is my best friend and so I try to keep an open mind.

"Have you jabbed yourself yet?" Kat has the remarkable ability to turn everything into a sordid affair.

"Yeah," I said as I tossed the insulin syringe into the sharps container. Although we've been friends for several lifetimes, Kat is still unable to be in the same room with me when I take my insulin.

"Sweets for the sweet. Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah and why are you up so early?"

"Eat something, small talk. We'll get to all that soon enough."

I reached for a fat poppy muffin while Kat poured milk. The muffins were still quite warm and smelled of . . . what . . . oh yeah . . . almonds. I closed my eyes and took a bite. Oh yes. It's all coming back to me now. Oh well, it was only a dream.

"See. I brought your favorite. Almond poppy. They were just taking them out of the oven when I got there."

"Are you sure the baker wasn't just getting out of the bed when you got there?"

"Funny. You need to try getting up a little earlier. Perhaps you'd be more presentable for company."

"Anyone in my house at seven a.m. most definitely is not company."

"Oh well, enough about you. I met absolutely THE MOST awesomely gorgeous, body like
warm sandy beaches, goddess at Theo's last night."

"At Theo's? On a wednesday night? Starting your weekend a wee bit early?"

"Oh, nah. I was there to meet some idiot who wants to start a fan club. You know, I'm glad to be reaching the masses, but some people should just never leave their houses. The sad thing is she was the cutest little baby dyke you'd ever seen. And she wore the cutest little hip-hugging jeans. Her breasts were just so happy in her tee. But, alas, she was dirty, smelly, and disorganized. And I was just about to tell her so when Aphrodite herself walked through the door . . . " Kat can go on forever describing the details of an ant's ass. I guess that's what makes her the hottest black lesbian writer around. Reading her stuff is better than being there. It's being there and experiencing everything from the movement of the clouds to the sway of blades of grass in the breeze.

Anyway, in simple language she dismissed the B.D. and her B.O. with an autographed copy of her latest book, Pasqual's Passions, and turned her attention to Aphrodite, who just happened to be new in town and looking for the community.

"...And so I'm having her over for dinner tonight. Are you free?"

Oh boy, I think I missed some really important stuff. "What do you want from me?"

"I want you to make dinner tonight at my place. Have you not been paying attention? And some truly decadent dessert, that'll make her moan."

"Okay, what time is she coming?"

"Shortly after dessert, I hope. But I'd like dinner to be ready at seven p.m."

"Shall I serve you and clear the plates as well?"

"Don't be a smart ass. Besides, Michael, The Cleaning Queen (no joke folks, that's what it says on his business card) will be in. I've already left him detailed messages."

"I'm sure you have. What do you want me to make? And how much do you want to spend?"

"The sky's the limit and nothing too messy or peculiar. She seems like a fairly simple girl."

"Simple girl? I thought she was Aphrodite?"

"She is. In a down home grits and greens, ivory soap, kind of way."

"Huh?"

"She has a plain simple elegance about her, like oh, I don't know, like
steamed greens and barbequed tofu." Oh my goodness, what an odd picture.

"Okay. How about roast quail, mixed greens with mandarin orange dressing, fresh rolls, and white chocolate almond cheesecake? I'll pick up a crisp white wine for dinner and you can offer tea or coffee with dessert. And I'll need about $100 dollars. $150 if you want me to pick up flowers while I'm out."

"$50 for flowers?"

"No. $25 for flowers and $25 for, well, because no one else on earth would do this for you."

"You're right. Here you go." She flipped her purse onto the bed and counted out $160 in twenties--fresh, crisp twenties.

"I'll be there about 3:30."

"I'll be napping, so let yourself in."

As I said, Kat and I have been friends since forever and are always doing things for each other. I really can't remember a time when she wasn't there for me or vice versa. At any rate, I could tell right away, she would be driving me crazy.

And of course she did. She called every half hour: What time are you coming? Did you go shopping yet? Were you able to find quail? Are the greens fresh? You didn't buy flowers this early did you? Do you think you should come earlier? Do you think I'm doing the right thing? Will this overwhelm her? Maybe it should be a dinner party. I could invite more people. What if she doesn't eat meat? What if she doesn't eat dairy? What if she doesn't eat?

That did it. I took the phone off the hook, disconnected the answering machine, and stuffed my pager in a drawer. OK, I didn't--but I wanted to. Kat, goddesses bless her, can be so irritating sometimes. And yet, friendship always wins out. Well actually, I always remind myself that she's been there for me every step of the way. And she hardly ever complained . . . much.

So I get to her place around 3:00 so she'd stop calling. I guess I prefer being harassed face to face. I don't know why I agreed to come so early anyway. Quail take about two seconds to cook. Anyhow I started the cheesecake, prepared the dressing, arranged the flowers, ushered Kat into her bath, and settled on the sofa with Goethe's Faust. I realize this isn't recreational reading for most, but I'm a little odd that way.

Anyhow the phone rings and seeing as how her highness is soaking in a luxurious bath of almond oil (mmm, that smells familiar), I answer it.

"Hello."

"Um, hi. Uhh Katherine?"

"No, may I tell her who's calling?"

"Uh yeah, Aphrodite."

No way. This chick did not just say her name is Aphrodite. "UH Okay, just a minute."

I raced up the stairs, flung open the bathroom door, and . . . Well I ran up two steps, tapped on the bathroom door, and walked into the bathroom. (Man, I love that smell.)

"What?"

"Kat, darling, did you forget to tell me something about your dinner date? Like her name?"

"I told you. Her name's Aphrodite."

"I don't think so. Anyway she's on the phone."

"Really?"

"No, not really. Here."

I handed her the phone and did my best to give her that look your mother gives you when she doesn't approve of the person you're seeing because she hasn't met them yet and can't decide whether to be hurt because you haven't introduced them, or disgusted because her name is Chuck (the woman you're seeing of course, not your Mom).

"Hello . . . Oh yes . . . Okay . . . When?...Alright that would be nice . . . Yes, she's here . . . Okay . . . Oh, no bother at all . . . See you at seven . . . Bye."

She clicked the phone and laid it on the side of the tub. "Well?"

"Oh, you'll have to stretch dinner. She's bringing a friend. And you're staying."

"Excuse me?"

"Oh come on Jae. I need you to stay. This friend of hers just got into town and she didn't want to miss our date, but she can't leave her friend stranded. And you're here so we'll make it a foursome."

"But that means I need to buy more quail, shower, dress, and be nice to people I don't even know."

"Well go get the quail. You can shower here, and I'll find you something presentable to wear." She orders me as she starts climbing out of the tub, dripping on everything.

"No you can't make me wear grown-up shit," I whine in retreat.

"We don't have time to argue. I'll pick something simple and comfortable. Now go. We don't have all night."

So I go. I get more quail, get back, prepare it and the greens, set the table, hop in the shower--how many shower gels can one person have? The answer to that folks is, way too many. I choose the Oatmeal Almond. I dressed quickly. Kat picked a short skirt and top for me.

We wear similar enough sizes, she's just quite a bit taller, so I think this skirt must come to her pelvis, cause its way short on me. I mean just under the curve of my butt cheeks short. I slip on the tights and . . . Oh Shit, no shoes. Kat, the glamour dyke also has big-ass feet. And, of course, all I have are my boots. So a quick spin around the room...jewelry...oh she's laid it all out, including a watch. I guess Looney-Tunes won't be making an appearance at this party. I accessorize, check my blood sugar, take insulin, and head to the kitchen.

Kat, who can't figure out why scrambled eggs aren't crunchy, has a really wide array of aprons. I select one that covers my entire front. Heaven forbid, I should spill. I put the rolls in the oven, start on the quail, set the wine to chill, and dress the salad. I put the wine on the table, remove the flowers--too big for four people--and set out small candles. They are gold and beige ones that smell like almonds (I know it's getting tiresome, but that smell, oh hell, why am I explaining
this).

After I light the candles I arrange the quail on small plates with the salad and pull the rolls from the oven. As I cover the breadbasket and remove my apron, the front doorbell rings. "Oh great, they're here." "Shwew, just in time."

"Hello welcome."

"Hi, oh this place is gorgeous. This is my friend Jesi, This is Katherine."

"Hi."

"Hi, nice to meet you, this is Jae. Jae, this is Aphrodite and Jesi."

"Hi."

"Hi."

"Hello."

"Let's all sit down and eat. The dinner's just ready."

"Oh great. I'm starving."

Oh...my....God...This woman has the warmest looking skin. I just want to reach out and lay my lips on her neck.

"Yes, Jae, loves to cook. She caters on the side and so I asked her to do this favor for me."

"Wow, it's really good."

"I've never remembered eating such an elegant meal. This isn't how you make your living?"

"Oh no I'm a writing professor."

"Really?"

"And Aphrodite was telling me that Kat is a writer. Is that how you became friends?"

"Oh no."

"No, we've been friends since birth, practically. And we've both been writing since we were young."

"And what do you write?"

"I write trashy lesbian fiction, and Jae here writes poetry."

"Oh then its good, you aren't competing."

"No, no competition here."

Did I mention I am sitting next to cut-off jean shorts and a white tank top surrounded by midnight black hair, deep brown eyes, and almond skin?

"So what do you two do?"

"I just moved here to take a job teaching sculpture."

"Where did you move from?"

"Greece. My Mom is Black. My Dad is Greek, thus the name. My mother meant it as a joke, but they never got around to changing the birth certificate. I was born two months after my father left my mother for an Adonis. I went to visit him after college and stayed for five years studying art. Sculpture is my passion. There's something about the wetness of the clay when you're shaping and molding a piece that makes me crazy." A unified sigh could be heard from lesbians on the next block.

"And you Jesi?"

"I do nothing right now."

"Of course you do. You dance."

"Well okay, I dance, but that will barely pay the bills. And it's not a real job. I think I may move here. I have my degree in music therapy."

"Where would you be moving from?"

"Puerto Rico."

Goddess help me. Have I died and gone to heaven or did I just feel a bare toe glide over my foot? I glance up, and oh yeah, she's smiling this way.

"Ah-hem. Would anyone like dessert? It's cheesecake?"

"Oh, yum."

"Sure, I'll help you." Oh no. She did not just say she'd help me. Jesi stacks the dishes from the table and follows me into the kitchen. I turn on the coffee pot.

Oh I didn't ask. Do you drink coffee?"

"Yes, with a little cream."

"And Aphrodite?"

"Yeah, she likes coffee."

I take out the cheesecake and begin arranging slices on plates. Jesi stands directly across, her elbows on the counter, her face resting on her knuckles.

"I am sorry to be so forward. But you are very beautiful...and inviting. I couldn't help myself."

"Oh hmm. That's okay." I'm sure if I were white, I'd be scarlet by now. I pour half and half in the creamer and grab the sugar bowl. I place them on a tray and begin to pour coffee. I put these on the tray and have to get another for the cheesecake. Jesi grabs the heavier tray and motions for me to lead. We set everything on the table and sit down.

Kat and Aphrodite are sitting much closer, their heads almost touching, deep in conversation. They barely notice us. Jesi looks at me and we both smile. When our forks clink against the plates they come out of their trance.

"Oh, dessert is here."

"This is outrageous cheesecake."

Jesi takes a bite and moans. Her tongue darts out for a crumb on her upper lip and I moan. Oh yeah, right out loud. She grins at me and reaches across with her fork, cuts a piece of my cheesecake and offers it to me. How could I possibly resist? While I chew, she takes a bite for herself, then offers me another. I'm feeling a little shy so I offer her a bite. Soon the dessert is gone and she's touching my hand.

Her fingers are so soft, heat emanating from her fingertips. We sip our coffee and I don't know what came over me, but I leaned over and kissed her. Her lips were as soft and warm as I thought they would be. She returned my kiss and licked her lips. I came to my senses, sort of, and started clearing the table. She helped me. We put everything on the counter, remembering Michael; the Cleaning Queen would be by in the morning.

"Um, I know that Kat was planning an intimate evening with Aphrodite. Maybe I could give you a mini tour of the area?"

"That would be nice."
"I just need to grab some shoes..." What the hell, she looked like a proper dyke, my boots would work just fine.

Jesi whispered something to Aphrodite. I told Kat I was going to show Jesi around, and we'd call before we came back.

"Don't worry, Jesi has a key to my place." Well, there's no deciphering what that meant.

We head out to my car and as I go to unlock the passenger side door, Jesi turns to me, holds my face in her hands, and kisses me. Her tongue seeks mine and we kiss like this for a hundred years.

"Why don't you show me where you live?" As though there was any other destination on my mind.

"Sure, hop in."

Along the way I do point out a few things: bookstore, coffee shop, pharmacy, campus. When we reach my apartment, I lead her in and give a quick tour of the place. The bedroom's a mess, so I lead her to the den area and sofa. I grab a couple of glasses of water and sit beside her. I ask her about dancing, about Puerto Rico, about her family. I tell her about my writing and my family. She sits her glass on the table and takes mine. This time I hold her face in my hands and run my fingers through her hair. We kiss and I make a mental note to fix the bed while she's in the shower later.

And I do. When I look up Jesi is unwrapping a fire yellow bathrobe to reveal naked almond skin. The steam from the shower rises from her neck, inviting me in for a dip. I feel the warmth and softness of her breath on my ear. I put my arms around her, pulling her to me, breathing her in, caressing her skin, tasting her again. I disconnect the phone from the wall, and revel in Almond Joy. Only this time, its no dream.

THE END

Copyright © 2001. Used by permission of author.. All Rights Reserved.