Disclaimers: This little tale is mine and all mine.
Sex: Yes’m. There will be sex in here, and you should know better than to ask if you’ve ever read my work before. J
If you’d like to tell me what a wonderful writer I am or that I royally suck, feel free at: XenaNut@hotmail.com.
Christina had had a tough night with her leg, so hadn’t ran that morning. She had been extremely pleased to look out her bedroom window and see Farren hoofing her way around the property: on time, and with large amounts of energy. Five months into training, the brunette was making the five mile run easily – when she gave it a true try, that was. Which, she had done that morning.
The coach had taken her time, learning long ago not to force her leg into submission, because she’d always lose. So, she’d taken a long, hot bath and had done her best to massage the beast, but it had helped only minimally. She wasn’t sure what the problem was, considering it was late spring, the temperatures were beautiful. Maybe it was spending all her days in a cold ice rink. She needed to find a good massage therapist, is what she needed.
Farren had continued to awe and amaze her that morning, as when Christina arrived at the rink, Farren was already on the ice and working her graceful way around it. As Christina watched – Farren still unaware she had an audience – the blonde realized just how truly beautiful the skater was. Her dark hair was pinned up on top of her head in a messy bun, and her long frame was dressed in simple track pants and sweatshirt, but even still, she was the picture of beauty and grace. No wonder the public had fallen in love with her so much during her glory years.
They were finally getting into planning their program. Farren had a competition coming up in three months, which would be her first since she’d walked away from the sport after Beverly Michael’s death. Christina was confident that Farren could handle it, it was just a matter of them finding some way to make a truce to get there without killing each other.
Farren was lost in her own head, just allowing her body free movement and flow. She’d had nine full hours of hard sleep the night before, and felt wonderful. She was rested, and filled with energy. Sleep: what a concept. After a few moments, she realized she wasn’t alone. Glancing over to the other side of the rink, she saw Christina standing at the wall, elbows leaning against it, watching her. She hadn’t had an audience for awhile, and deep down she had to admit, she liked Christina watching her. She could feel those green eyes following her as she moved across the ice. It gave her confidence, and made her feel bold. Suddenly – to both their surprise – she launched herself into a triple toe loop, landing with perfect grace.
Christina was delighted, immediately exploding into applause. It had been a beautifully executed jump, which gave her great confidence in that perhaps Farren still had all her abilities in tact.
Giving an exaggerated bow, Farren skated over to her coach, grinning. She didn’t know where that jump had come from, as she hadn’t done anything like that in almost two years!
“Bravo!” Christina exclaimed, finishing her applause.. “Very nice, Hankins.”
Farren stopped at the wall, resting an arm on it. “Thanks, Simms.” She chuckled. “We sound like a law firm – Hankins and Simms.”
“Yeah, or a pairs duo.” They both smiled, glad to have a bit of the last month’s tension reduced a bit. Christina sobered. “That was beautifully done, Farren. I’m impressed and more hopeful.”
“More hopeful!?” Farren balked “What, did you think I couldn’t pull off a simple triple toe loop?”
Christina rolled her eyes, both knowing the jump wasn’t ‘simple’. “I wasn’t sure how limber you’d remained.”
“Oh, after all the yoga, weight-training and stretching you’ve had me do, I’m quite limber.”
Christina felt a bit of a surge wash through her at Farren’s tone. It made her uncomfortable for a moment, until the warmth dissipated. “Well, I started drawing up some ideas for new jumps for you.” She shifted the bag she had slung over her shoulder, so she could grab her ever-present pad of paper. She showed the brunette a few of her drawings and ideas.
“Those are really great,” Farren said, examining the entire layout of a brand new jump that Christina had designed just for her. Suddenly she remembered something. She stepped off the ice and sat on a bench, untying her laces to replace the skates with running shoes.
“What are you doing?” Christina asked, wanting to get started on the new routines.
“Come with me.”
Christina was led beck to the main house and up the stairs to Farren’s bedroom. Confused, the blonde followed without comment. She was led through the large bedroom suite, which was gorgeous. Her gaze was drawn to the massive wooden bed at the center of the room. It looked like something that belonged in a King’s bedroom, not that of an ice skater. The bedroom furniture in the set that matched the bed was just as incredible.
Farren walked to her home office, confident that Christina would follow her. “Beverly had a friend create a program for her,” she explained, turning on her computer. “It was a great help when we were planning new programs.”
Christina looked around the home office as Farren talked and booted up the program on the computer. She saw a series of framed pictures hanging on the wall above the leather couch. She was amazed at just how many personal pictures the brunette had in her house; somehow Farren Hankins hadn’t struck Christina as a sentimental type. There were, however lots of things about the skater she was discovering to pleasant surprise.
“Is this Frisbee?” she asked, smiling as she took in the picture of the adorable nine year old Farren playing with a happy black lab in a park.
Farren glanced up from her computer to see which picture Christina was talking about. “Yup.”
“I never did get to meet him.” Christina grinned at her skater, chuckling as Farren rolled her eyes. “He was cute.”
“Yeah, he was. Sadly, he was killed about three months after that picture was taken. He decided that chasing a garbage truck was a really good idea.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Christina wandered back over to the desk, sitting in a chair across from Farren. “So, if you and Beverly worked on your routines in here, why did you put your home office in your bedroom?”
“Well, at night before we went to bed, it made it easier to-“ Farren cut herself off, realizing what she’d said, and was about to say. “Shit. I just gave myself away, didn’t I?”
Christina grinned, nodding. “I already suspected, so you pretty much just confirmed it.” The blonde leaned forward in her chair. “How long were you two a couple?”
Farren sighed, sitting back in her chair. She couldn’t believe she’d taken Christina’s bait. “About fifteen years.”
“Wow. That’s a really long time.”
“You have no idea.”
Christina was curious by that comment, and the dry tone of voice in which it had been delivered. “What do you mean?”
“I mean basically that I was a young kid, very impressionable, and very willing to be controlled.”
Christina nodded. “I’d heard she could be that way. They say a controlling nature is what makes a good coach.” Her grin was met with a hard look from Farren. “I’m kidding! But seriously, I’d heard that about her. She could be difficult.”
Farren nodded. “Yes, she could. Now, I’m not trying to sit here and demean her memory or anything. It’s just that …” Farren thought for a minute, trying to decide what was the best way to put it “It’s just that I was young and didn’t know any better, I guess. That first relationship, the one that eventually comes to define you, you know?”
Christina nodded, though she wasn’t entirely able to understand. She’d never been in a relationship in her life. Her life and time had been dedicated to her sport, then school, then coaching.
Oblivious to Christina’s thoughts, Farren continued. It actually felt good to talk about it. She’d never been able to before, because it was the best kept secret in the skating world. “I remember early on in our training, Beverly was so nice to me. She could be tough, but overall, it was like she never wanted to hurt my feelings or make me doubt myself. But then, as I got older – into my teens – things began to change. She got tougher and far more hands on. I didn’t understand why. I mean, here was this woman, twice my age and married, who I started to feel this strong bond with. Eventually I realized I was sexually attracted to her.” She chuckled. “Even then, it took a pretty hot dream to make me realize it.”
Christina laughed as well, able to appreciate that. She had had few friends in her life, mostly because she was a true loner, but also because of what her life had been since she was six years old, she was unable to relate to most people. They were married, had kids, or were simply had boyfriends or girlfriends. They talked about their relationship highs or lows, meanwhile an embarrassed Christina was able to give little to no input whatsoever. She always felt a bit left out. She’d never regretted the way she’d lived her life, but sometimes….
Farren pushed back from the desk, the skating program forgotten. “Do you like wine?”
Christina blinked, startled by the abrupt change in subject. “Um, yes. I do.”
“Excellent!’ Farren, excited, hurried from the room, leaving Christina to ponder the sudden change in events. It seemed today they were going to be friends. Within moments Farren returned, two wine glasses and a chilled bottle of Camelot honey wine from the Rocky Mountain Meadery. “This is the best wine ever. It’s made here in Colorado. Do you like sweet wines?” she asked as she poured a glass for the blonde.
“Yeah. I prefer them, actually.”
“Well, then you’re in luck.” Farren handed over the glass filled with the amber liquid then poured her own. “Tell me what you think.”
Christina took her first sip, pleasantly surprised by the sweet taste. “This is really good.” She reached for the bottle, looking at the label. “Is it a very expensive wine?”
Farren shook her head, sitting on the leather couch. “Nah. About thirteen bucks a bottle. But I love it.”
They were quiet a moment as they sipped their wine. Christina moved from the chair at the desk to the leather recliner that matched Farren’s couch. “This is so nice in here. Do you use that very often?” she asked, indicating the fireplace tucked into the corner.
“All the time in the winter. The main reason we bought this house was because of all the fireplaces all over the place. I’ve got one in my bedroom, in here, the living and family rooms –“
“In my room –“
“In your room. I love it.”
“It’s a beautiful house, Farren. You’ve done really well for yourself,” Christina complimented.
“Thank you. And thank Nike and Yoplay.” Farren grinned, raising her glass to all the sponsors she’d had over the years. “What about you? Why did you retire, and where did you go?”
Christina sighed, cupping her glass between her hands in her lap. “Well, I retired because I just felt I didn’t have anything else to give. I wasn’t connecting with the kind of students I used to. So, I settled in Madrid Spain for a little while, until I got the call from Alex Mason.”
“What made you take his offer?” Farren sipped her wine, very interested in the answer to her question.
Christina shrugged. “I couple reasons, really. For one: it got me back to the states, which I’d been contemplating off and on for a year or so. Two: I was curious why on earth you, of all people, would want me to be your coach.”
Farren smirked. “I didn’t.”
Christina grinned, recognizing the teasing tone in the brunette’s voice. “Yes, I know. And I know you still regret it to this day, but that’s okay If nothing else, I’ve whipped your ass back into shape, and have gotten you ready for wherever else you want to go.”
Farren nodded vigorously. “That you have!” Again, she raised her glass in salute. “To the meanest coach I’ve ever had!”
Good-natured, Christina tapped her glass against Farren’s. “To the laziest skater I’ve ever had.”
Farren broke into laughter, grateful for the tension between the two to be gone for once. She could tell Christina was still holding herself back, but slowly the blonde was letting her hair down.
“So, about your routine-“ Christina began, about to set her wineglass aside. Farren stopped her.
“No. We’re finally playing nice. Don’t ruin it with talk of work.”
Christina was amused, and a small part annoyed, but decided to push that side away. “God forbid we talk about work.” Christina took a drink of her wine. “Fine, and so be it.”
“Good choice.” Farren sat back in her chair, getting comfortable. “So what about you? Did you leave some guy back in Spain?”
Christina rolled her eyes. “That would be a no.”
“Really? Sounds like a story there.” Farren leaned forward in her chair, the strong wine beginning to slightly warm her senses.
Whereas the brunette – more used to drinking – was getting warmed senses, Christina – who rarely to never drank – was beginning to feel the full affects of the honey wine. She set her glass down, needing a small break. “Wow, that’s strong.” She cleared her throat. “No story, I promise. I don’t really date.”
“Well, to be perfectly honest, I haven’t found a guy yet that wasn’t a complete idiot.”
Farren broke into laughter once more, loving the candid way Christina saw and spoke things. She nodded in agreement. “Yes, I do know what you mean.” They were silent for a moment. “You have dated though? Right?”
This was the part Christina hated. She never knew how much to tell, or how far to take the conversation. She could give a very easy answer and be done with it, but then she’d be lying, and she wasn’t comfortable with that, either. She sighed. “A little.”
Farren studied her, knowing there was more to it than that. She waited a moment to see if the blonde would continue. When she didn’t, Farren knew she would have to dig. “What does ‘a little’ mean?”
“It means I – for some reason – accepted a couple invites here and there, but it never really went beyond a date or two.” She shrugged, feeling her defenses creeping up. “Just wasn’t my thing, I guess.” She looked down into her near-empty wine glass. “It just didn’t do anything for me.”
Farren could see how uncomfortable Christina was, and suspected the reason why. Christina had never been with anybody. Farren wondered if she’d ever even kissed before. Deciding to drop the subject, she brightened for her next question. “So, what did you get your degree in?”
Eternally relieved and grateful, Christina brightened as well. After all – academia was her second passion. “English. I wanted to continue on and get my masters and PhD, but the skating world got in the way.”
“Do you think you’ll ever go back?”
“Oh, yes! That’s what I was doing in Spain. I’d already started classes.”
Farren looked at her for a moment. “How odd. Something you’re so passionate about – school – yet skating interfered a second time. Why?”
Christina thought about it for a moment, never having really thought of her current situation that way. “Jeez, you’re right. I don’t really know.” She drank the last little bit in her glass and set it aside, kicking off her shoes and curling up in the chair she sat in. “I guess skating and the skating world is a bit like a siren song to me. It’s always calling, and I guess I always have to answer.”
“Will you ever be able to ignore it?” Farren asked softly.
Christina smiled and shook her head. “I don’t know. I’d like to think so, but it’s such a huge part of me. It has been for the majority of my life, so…” She shrugged again. “I think after we’re done here, I’ll finish my education and move on from the sport. I’ll always love and cherish it, but it’s no longer my world.” She patted her leg. “I don’t fit in very well anymore.”
“Do you still skate? Ever? Just for fun.”
“Not much. I can only do so much before my leg starts to ache.”
“Which reminds me. How is it going with Tanya?” Farren asked, referring to the massage therapist she’d introduced Christina to a couple weeks before.
“She’s great. Been very helpful.” She absently massaged the side of her thigh, down by her knee. Her problem child.
“Good. I’m glad.”
“I really appreciate it, Farren. Thank you.”
“Anytime.” Farren gave her a most charming smile.
Christina felt a wave of giddiness wash through her as she finished tying on the boot of her skate. Making sure it was nice and tight, and everything was solid on the skate, she put her foot down, testing the stability of the blade. Satisfied, she pushed to her feet, the blades on her feet as natural to walk on as anything.
The ice had been freshly done earlier that day, the perfection of the surface glinting in the light. Stepping gingerly onto the surface, Christina was mindful of how her leg was feeling. She’d had a good session with Tanya that afternoon, and felt strong and capable. She glided out to the center of the ice, just enjoying the sensation of moving and the cold against her face and hands. She did a couple experimental spins, nothing too hard, before moving faster. She did a couple laps around the oval rink, coming to a flushed stop, her heart pounding with the exertion and excitement of being on the ice again.
Farren saw the light on in the large building, though to her surprise, it lit the side with the ice, not the swimming pool. She continued on her way towards it, intending to get some good practice in.
Christina could hear the music in her head, could feel the adrenaline pour through her. Even some of her old routines – created by her and Sherry – came to mind. She knew she was limited in what she could and should do, but could still see them clear as day in her mind’s eye. She wished she had that kind of freedom again, but what she had would have to do. She gathered her speed and went into a one-handed Biellmann spin. She could feel the air parting for her, the cold rushing across her body, even as she began to heat up.
Coming out of the spin, she tested her leg, grateful she’d always done her spins on her right leg. She leaned back until she was in a full Layback Spin. She had to cut it a bit short, as her right leg began to burn from the exertion, her body unused to using those particular muscle groups anymore. She was breathing hard, but god it felt wonderful!
Christina gasped in surprise when she felt two hands suddenly rest on her hips, and a tall body behind her own. “Skate with me,” Farren said softly. “Just follow my lead.”
Unsure, but deciding to trust her, Christina followed along, virtually reading Farren’s mind as they moved across the ice, constantly making eye contact, much like a dance, so they could read their partner’s intent.
Farren had skated pairs for two years in her early teens, that is until she decided she hated it and went back to singles. But it all came back to her as she led the blonde across the ice, their bodies in perfect sync. They fell into a matching pair of Side-By-Side Shotgun Spins, their speed immense. As the spin slowed, and they finally fell out of it, they grinned at each other, but not stopping.
Christina took Farren’s extended hand, their feet moving together in harmony as they shot across the ice. Together they slowed, Farren moving in behind Christina, once again taking hold of her hips. She could feel the brunette’s body heat behind her, pressed into her own, and it made her heart jump out of her chest. She wanted to lean back into the warmth, but forced herself not to.
Farren, for her part, was losing herself in the blonde. She leaned down, able to smell the freshness of her shampoo, mixed with her sweat. The softness so tempting. She urged Christina into a slow, two-foot spin, which the blonde executed beautifully, Farren watching the grace and beauty of her body.
Christina eased out of the spin, finding herself in Farren’s arms. She rested her hands on the brunette’s shoulders to steady herself, warm hands resting on her lower back. She looked up into Farren’s eyes, so utterly beautiful. Christina was losing herself, and had no idea how to stop it.
Farren was already lost in a sea of green as she lowered her head, brushing soft lips with her own. When she wasn’t pushed away, she met Christina’s lips again, this time leaning in a bit more for more solid contact. When the blonde sighed softly into the kiss, Farren pulled her a bit closer, easing any space between them.
Christina eased her hands up along Farren’s shoulders and finally up around her neck, enjoying the soft warmth that was filling her entire being, just from Farren’s kiss. As the kiss deepened, and she felt the softness of Farren’s tongue against her own, she found herself going to a place where she’d never been. She’d never known passion, never felt true desire. Until that moment. Realization began to filter in around the pleasure, sending a cold trickle of fear down her spine.
Farren’s hands slid from Christina’s lower back down to the tight ass beneath the track pants. She took a firm hold, pulling the blonde deeper into her. Her own passion was building to a level that she had never experienced. Never in her life had she wanted someone so much as she wanted Christina Simms in that moment.
She was startled from her desirous thoughts when suddenly Christina pushed her away, nearly sending her sprawling on her ass. Christina looked at Farren with accusatory eyes, her own fears turning into anger, which she lashed out at Farren. “I’m not one of your women,” she said, her voice hard as she tried desperately to hide the tremble within it.
Farren was stunned and hurt as she watched Christina skate off the ice, and hurry off towards the locker room. She had no idea what had just happened. How the hell had they ended up kissing? How the hell did she end up skating with Christina? And finally, why the hell did Christina take off!?
Christina hurried up to her room, tears flowing down her cheeks. She honestly had no idea why she was crying, or why she was so upset. Angrily, she swiped at her eyes, only to find more tears taking their place.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” she muttered, walking over to the window. She looked out in time to see Farren’s car speeding down the driveway. This, of course, just served to make her even more angry. Irrationally so, but angry all the same.
Without another thought, she grabbed a bag and shoved a few things into it, then headed out to her own car. She was still wiping away tears as she climbed behind the wheel and got the engine started.
“What is wrong with me?” she growled, frustrated. Hands on the wheel, engine idling, she thought back to the moments on the ice. She’d been fully enjoying herself and the freedom of being on skates again. Her leg had been fine, and had held up better than it had in a long time. Tanya had the winning touch, that was for sure. Apparently so had Farren. She thought about the way the other skater had touched her – so gentle and kind. Almost… lovingly. They had skated together as though they’d been doing it for years.
Her eyes closed as she once again felt Farren’s kiss. So soft. So tender. So filled with the passionate desire Christina had craved her whole life, but had never found, nor – for some reason – really looked for. Her eyes opened, a vivid green from the tears. Why had she allowed it to happen? Why had she allowed Farren Hankins to get closer to her than most? What was it? What was it about her? It had been wonderful. Christina had almost felt ashamed by how her body had responded to the brunette’s touch. She had felt like a reckless teenager in the back of a parked car: total lack of control and caring as restless hands groped and windows steamed.
“But that wasn’t what it was,” she whispered, shaking her head to ward off her own negative thoughts. “She wasn’t treating me like that.” Deep down, Christina knew her true problem hadn’t been the fact that Farren had kissed her, but more the fact that she desperately feared becoming just one more in Farren’s pot of women. She flat refused that fate. “I won’t let her use me, too,” Christina said, her resolve returning in full strength. She put her car in gear and headed off the property.
Lorraine finally gave up trying to say anything and resigned herself to sitting on her couch and watching her friend angrily pace and rant.
“I’m telling you, Lor, she is the biggest bitch! What the hell was that supposed to mean? ‘I’m not one of your women’. Huh? I don’t get it.” She ran a hand through her hair, which was all over her head from the other four hundred times she’d done that very same, agitated move in the past hour.
Lorraine kept quiet, not sure if maybe this time the question wasn’t rhetorical, or if Farren actually wanted an answer. She figured the later must be the case, as Farren plopped down on the couch next to her and looked at her with sad, blue eyes. “Can I talk now?” the redhead asked, a brow quirked.
Farren nodded, blowing out a breath, unable to see the amusement in her recent actions as her mind was totally taken up with anger and hurt, all aimed directly at one beautiful little green-eyed blonde.
Lorraine began to speak, her voice soft and non-accusatory, as she had some not-so-nice things to say. “Farren, you’re not exactly a woman who keeps women around. Hell, even I know that, because you come around here when you want to, and don’t stay.” She smiled to take the sting out of her words. “First of all, you said she’s straight. Second of all, she may not be into the flavor of the month, thing.”
“But she’s not!” Farren exclaimed, jumping up from the couch again. Her brows drew when she realized what she had said.
“So, what is she?” Lorraine asked softly, knowing the answer in her own heart. She’d never seen the brunette so upset or hurt before. Certainly not over a woman. She knew the two skaters clashed in many ways, but she honestly felt it was more out of the tension of heightening emotions, rather than simply not getting along, or not seeing eye to eye.
“Shit.” Farren ran her hand through her hair one more time, the hair now becoming frizzy from her repeated actions. She thought back to moments over the past months. Hell, moments over the past years. She’d always thought Christina was beautiful and supremely talented, but early on, the two had been taught to not like each other, as they were the other’s greatest threat.
She walked over to the window, looking out into the night sky. She could see the blonde before her mind’s eye. The look in the green eyes had matched Farren’s own emotions. Want. Desire. Need. Christina had wanted her to kiss her. Just as much as Farren had wanted to. So, what had been the problem?
Lorraine watched the brunette, her own heart breaking in her chest. She’d always hoped somewhere inside that Farren would see her for her true feelings. It hadn’t happened, and now it looked as though it never would. Farren’s heart – which Lorraine felt was terribly obvious – now belonged to Christina Simms. She chuckled softly.
“You know what I find horribly amusing and ironic in all of this?” she asked. Farren turned away from the window, giving her friend her full attention. “We’ve fallen into one of those ridiculous lesbian novels you always pushed me to read.” She sat back on the couch, letting out a breath.
“How so?” Farren asked, leaning back against the window, arms crossed over her chest. “And you hated those.”
“Still do, but I did read a few,” Lorraine admitted with a smirk. “Here I am: the friend who is in love with the main character, but will never have a shot because said main character has fallen in love with someone else. Namingly, Christina Simms.”
Farren stared at her for a moment in stark shock, though she wasn’t sure which admission she was more shocked about. “You’re in love with me?” she asked finally.
Lorraine rolled her eyes. “That doesn’t matter now, Farren. You are in love with your coach. Again.” She smirked at yet more irony. “What are you going to do about it?”
“I’m not in love with her, Lorraine,” Farren said, sitting down on the couch next to the redhead. She looked at her friend, not entirely believing her words, but somehow the thought of being in love with Christina just didn’t feel right. “That just seems extreme. I don’t even know her that well. She doesn’t let me get close enough to know her.”
“And I think that is one reason why you’re so drawn to her.”
Farren looked at her, confused. “I don’t get it. Explain.”
Lorraine turned on the couch so she was facing the brunette. “Alright, maybe ‘in love’ is a bit strong, but damn close. Every time I’ve seen you since Christina has been at your place, you do nothing but rant about how much she drives you crazy, and how you don’t understand her.”
“She does. Lorraine, we’re nothing alike. She drives me crazy because I don’t understand her. I don’t get what makes her tick, and why the hell she doesn’t like me!” She jumped up from the couch and began pacing again.
Lorraine studied her, amused. “Honey, are you listening to yourself?”
Farren stopped pacing, looking at her friend, but not seeing her. She replayed back in her mind what she’d just said. … and why the hell she doesn’t like me! “Shit.” She grabbed two handfuls of her hair and sighed. “Shit.”
Pam sat with her daughter in the backyard, each with a glass of iced tea in their hands as they looked out into the warm evening. Christina had been fairly quiet since she’d arrived on their door an hour before. Something was wrong, Pam’s maternal intuition buzzing like mad. Reaching out, she tucked a few wisps of hair behind her daughter’s ear.
“Want to talk about it, sweetie?” she asked softly. The obvious tear tracks on Christina’s face had alarmed her when she’d first seen the younger blonde, but she knew better than to pry before Christina was ready to talk. It had been an hour, and Christina’s silence was indicative that she was mulling her troubles over in her mind. It was becoming safe to ask.
Christina sighed, sipping her tea. She’d been enjoying the safety and comfort of her mother’s presence since she’d arrived. Some might say she had an unusual attachment to her mother at the age of thirty-two. But, she didn’t think so. Pam had always been more like a friend than her mother – though she certainly had the mother thing down – and Christina had always felt more compelled to confide in the older woman than any friends she might have, which weren’t usually high in number.
“We had a …” Christina’s voice faltered. A what? What do you call what had happened? “fight,” she finished lamely.
“Honey, is there ever a time when you two aren’t fighting?” Pam ran her fingers through her daughter’s soft hair So thick. She’d always admired and envied Christina’s beautiful, blonde hair. The day she had cut it had broken Pam’s heart. “Maybe this isn’t the right job for you.”
“She kissed me,” Christina blurted, surprised at her own candor. She hadn’t intended to say anything, merely to escape to her parents’ house for the night to cool off. As the silence stretched on, she was afraid to see her mother’s expression. Though Pam had done nothing but always support her on any and everything she did, this one was a doozy. Finally she met her mother’s gaze.
“What happened?” Pam asked gently. She could see that Christina was just as surprised as she, herself was at this change in events. Pam had always wondered why her daughter didn’t date, or at least rarely did, and certainly nothing to any sort of fruition, as far as she knew.
Christina sighed, brining her legs up to tuck against her chest. She set her tea aside and wrapped her arms around her shins. “I was skating, just letting myself go with it. Oh, mom,” she sighed, closing her eyes as a wonderful peace filled her. “It was so amazing to be on the ice again. God, I loved it.” She remembered the feeling of freedom, warmth spreading through her until her memory was invaded by the sight of Farren’s face. Her eyes opened and she stared out at the backyard. “She joined me,” she continued, her voice growing softer. “We skated together. It was truly beautiful.”
Pam listened to the words, trying to listen for the meanings between the lines. It was a talent she’d become very good at, as her daughter rarely just came out and said it, no matter what ‘it’ was. She waited for more.
“And then it just happened.” Christina sighed, resting her head back against the back of the glider, looking up into the night sky with all it’s brilliant stars.
Pam sipped her tea then set the glass aside. “Is that what has you so upset?” Pam asked, trying to find the source of this issue.
“In a way.” Christina looked at her mother. “I don’t know, Mom. I enjoyed the kiss. Very much. But somehow it just felt wrong.” She paused, trying to figure out exactly what she was trying to say. She’d spoken to her mother before about Farren’s extracurricular activities. “I told her I didn’t want to be just another one of her women.” She looked at her mother. “You know, used then tossed aside to make room for the next.”
Pam was trying to wrap her mind around what she was being told. IF she was reading Christina correctly, the problem wasn’t in the fact that Farren – a woman – had kissed her, but more in that Farren was a bit of a playgirl, so to speak, and her daughter didn’t want to end up as another in a long line. If that were true, she realized, then that meant Christina had no problem with the sexual nature of Farren’s actions. What did that mean then? She knew that was something to be dealt with at another time. Right now, her daughter needed her to stay on course and be there for her.
“Did she say or do anything to make you feel that you would be just another of her women?” Pam asked.
Christina shook her head. “No, actually. She was very gentle, but still… I know what she’s about, Mom. Why on earth would she see me as anything but a bit of fun for the night? We don’t even like each other, let alone anything else!”
Pam smiled. “I’m going to tell you a story. When I was going into third grade, the first day of class our teacher wanted us all to sit around her on the floor. Being the good girl that I was, I wanted to sit next to the teacher. I was about to sit down when this little pain in the ass boy in cowboy boots and a ridiculous cowboy shirt flies past me and sits exactly where I was about to sit. I was enraged!”
Christina was amused, but had no idea what cowboy boots had to do with anything. “Okay,” she said, confused.
“For days I hated that kid. He had made me so damn mad, I thought I would never forgive him. Eventually we became friends. I realized that in ways I was strong, he was weak, and where he was brilliant, I was lacking.”
“Mom, I love you, but why are you telling me this?”
“The boy was your father, Christina. I’m trying to tell you that things happen in strange ways. Ways that at the time may not make a lot of sense, but in the grand scheme of things, it all makes total and perfect sense.” She shrugged, “Maybe there’s something to all this with you and Farren.”
Christina looked at her mother like she’d swallowed a bug. “Are you trying to tell me that all this fighting has been the prelude to a marriage with a kid and house in the suburbs?”
Pam smiled. “No, not necessarily. All I’m saying is, since the two of you not only kissed, but enjoyed the kiss, there may be more to this than just two women who don’t mesh. And, as far as how Farren treats women, I want you to take one thing into consideration.” She waited until she knew she had her daughter’s full attention, which she had. “From what you’ve said, and what I know of that type of personality, they’re going to sleep with people who don’t matter in the picture of their life. A stranger, or casual friend. Do you think she’d want to chance harming her relationship – as tenuous as it is – with her coach? She’s a beautiful woman, Christina. She could probably go out and get whoever she wanted.”
Christina thought about that for a moment, looking back out into the night. She let it roll around in her brain for a bit, trying it on for size. It made sense. “That’s very true,” she said at last. She let out a heavy sigh, turning back to her mother. “So, are you saying I really overreacted, and have made a big deal out of what should have just been what it was: a sweet kiss that came from being caught up in the moment?”
Pam shrugged. Personally, she didn’t think it was that simple. She knew her daughter, and if Christina hadn’t wanted it at a deep level, she would have left Farren flat on her ass on the ice, a red hand print on the side of her face. “Maybe,” she said. It wasn’t her place to get Christina to understand. The younger blonde had to figure it out for herself.
Christina blew out a breath. “Okay. Damn. I owe her an apology.” She pushed up from the chair, stretching out her body before turning to her mother, who had also stood. “I should go, Mom. I need to talk to her, and I don’t want this to fester any longer than it already has.”
Pam accepted her daughter’s hug, then bade her a good night.
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