Appetites Page 6

  “I can't believe you have the nerve to call me, Is.” Lillian's voice was cold, so cold you would never be able to tell that she felt as if someone was trying to tear her heart out through her belly button.

  “It's Mima, Lil. She had a stroke.”

  Dropping to her knees on the espresso-colored wood floor, Lillian let out an anguished cry.

  “Lillian,” said Isabella, “I know you hate me right now, and you have every right to, but I also know you would never forgive me if I didn't tell you.” She paused and Lily heard a sharp intake of breath. From experience, she knew that sound meant that Issy was trying really hard not to cry.

  “She's at Mount Sinai, Lil. I can come pick you up or send a car. Just tell me what you want me to do.”

  Mima was everyone's nickname for the tough, aristocratic, Cuban lady who had adopted Issy and been like a mother to Lillian as well. She didn't know if Mima had gone out of her way to mother her because of the fact that Lillian's mother had died during childbirth or if it was just her way, but once Mima was a part of her life, she never again felt like an orphan.

  She gave up on acting tough and sobbed openly. “Pick me up. I'll be waiting in the lobby.”

  ***

  The ride to the hospital was tense to say the least. They had shared an awkward hug when Issy picked her up, but now they were as quiet as strangers on a bus bench.

  “Coffee?”

  “What?” Lillian asked, Issy's voice pulling her out of her thoughts.

  “Do you want coffee? The hospital cafeteria serves swill. I can drive-through Starbucks. I know it's shit, but trust me, it's better than the hospital's crap-in-a-cup.”

  Lily nodded. “Oh yeah, thanks. I could use some actually. I had some wine earlier.”

  Isabella looked at her from the corner of her eye. “Earlier? As in, for breakfast?”

  Lilliana knew that if she looked at Isabella at that moment, she would see the trademark smirk. No matter what was going on, Isabella always found a way to crack wise. It was how she dealt. Unfortunately, I don't have that ability…or I wouldn't have been having wine and sleeping pills for breakfast.

  Outside of Mima's room, Isabella told Lily to go in alone. “She wants to see you and I know you guys are close, so it's only fair you get some alone time with her,” said Issy, wringing her hands in a way that Lily had never seen her do. She also had new grays that weren't there six months ago. She probably also has a 19-year-old waiting at home, thought Lily, anger rising up in her.

  “Thanks, Is, but I don't need your permission or your blessing to spend time alone with Mima. She may not be my de facto mother, but she's as close to it as humanly possible.”

  Issy blushed and started apologizing. “I didn't mean to imply—“

  “Just shut up. Your voice makes me sick.” She wasn't proud of her exit line, but she knew it was possible to lose her composure any second now. It was hard to transition from her scheduled suicide attempt to hanging out with the ex who was the reason for her suicide attempt. It's a miracle I haven't gone apeshit. Thank God this is so surreal...it almost feels as if it were happening to someone else.

  She spent the next two hours with Mima. The stroke had hit her hard and it was almost impossible to understand what she was saying, but Lillian understood enough. “Perdonala, hija. Ella es un desastre sin ti y la vida es demasiada corta para escoger el sufrimiento.”

  My daughter, forgive her. She's a disaster without you and life is too short to choose suffering. Hours after a stroke, laying in a hospital bed, and still mothering her two daughters. That's Mima for you, thought Lily, fighting back tears. Thank you, God, for letting me live long enough to see this woman again.

  ***

  I can't believe three months ago, I had staged my own suicide as if I were a character in Valley of the Dolls, thought Lillian, sipping on a latte.

  Things weren't back to normal, not by any means, but they had promised Mima—under the type of coercion that mothers execute with flawless precision—that they would meet for coffee once a week and try to reestablish a friendship.

  They both knew that by “amistad” Mima really meant “matrimonio” and that her promise to get better if they followed her orders was a total bluff. Sure, she was tough—the woman was jailed for publicly speaking out against the so-called revolution and saying that Fidel Castro and Che Guevara were nothing but thugs—but she couldn't force her body to heal, could she? It's not like she had super powers; she was just a wise and caring viejita, nothing more, nothing less.

  Lilliana eyes lit up when she saw Issy's black BMW M4 coupe pull into the parking lot and park right next to her yas marina blue BMW X6 M. Issy wasn't late; Lily was early. She always arrived early enough to watch Issy before Issy became aware of her presence.

  “Hey,” said Issy, giving Lily a quick peck on the cheek. She dropped a small, plastic mesh bag on the table in front of Lily.

  “Mamones!” squealed Lily, quickly grabbing one of the small, round fruits from the bag and cracking it open. “Thank you,” she added hurriedly, before popping it into her mouth.

  “I was able to catch one of those street vendors,” said Issy, following suit. “I haven't had one of these in, like, forever.”

  “Um, I know Mima said coffee,” said Isabella. “But I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner tonight?” She looked into the distance as if the answer to her question were of little consequence. Lily knew she did that when she most cared about the response.

  “Yeah, sure.”

  Issy's mouth crinkled into that smirk Lily loved so much. “Where do you want to go? How about Lemoni?”

  “Oh God, yes,” replied Lily. “I haven't been there since…” her voice trailed off.

  Isabella gently grabbed her hand. “I know, Lil. And I know we're under Mima's orders not to dwell on the past, but I will say this: I love you and I will always love you. And it will never happen again. We're both miserable without each other. Isn't life too short to choose to be miserable?”

  It wasn't an exact quote, but close enough, thought Lillian. I choose to be happy.

  Naughty Cookie

  Erzabet Bishop

  Nadine growled as she rounded the curve of the track. She was on fire today and the bout was rocking. She waved as she roared by and the crowd went wild. Her skates were a part of her, the pads just another layer of skin. Her costume—otherwise known as a boutfit—was smoking hot. The frilly black micro skirt with lime green edging and skin tight black t-shirt left little to the imagination.

  If she bent over just right, the skirt flared up and the audience got a bird's eye view of her flesh-colored panties. She loved the voyeuristic aspect of the game even more than the physical contact. Tonight she got to be the pivot and that made her smile. Bossy blocker that she was, it would be nice to razz the hell out of the other team.

  And speaking of contact.

  Nadine's teeth ground together as she watched her sometimes lover and opposing team member Faith gaining ground next to her. Their eyes met and Nadine could see the wheels churning behind Faith's green-eyed gaze. Faith was temptation on wheels and she knew it. Tight blue shorts and a low plunging tank top revealed more of her girl's body than it covered. The cute as hell pig tails and blue ribbons made her appear like a naughty school girl, but Nadine knew what lurked behind the innocent façade.

  Memories of their last encounter warmed Nadine's cheeks. Faith was a spanker. Paddles, a hair brush. It didn't matter. Nadine loved every second of it. If the truth be known, she hungered for it. The sting of the impact. The expression on her lover's face when she released her and they exploded into a passionate frenzy of lovemaking.

  Faith's lips curved up in a devilish smile. As if she discerned what Nadine was thinking, Faith blew her a kiss. Warmth curled through Nadine's core and it was all she could do not to pull Faith down and put her hands on her voluptuous body right there in front of God and everyone. Tomorrow was Valentine's Day and her mind was working on overdrive to make
things special for Faith.

  The teams had been on tour and the last time she and Faith had been together was weeks before. The craving to touch her was nearly overwhelming. Lost in the memories of her creamy thighs and full breasts, she almost missed her turn and had to struggle not to stumble on the rebound. She caught up, quickly recovering the distance, determined to get ahead. The two were evenly matched and that made the challenge even greater. The bout was so close, it wouldn't take much for her team's jammer to make it across the line and claim victory. Just a few more rounds...

  A moment in time and Faith's elbow shot out, nailing Nadine right in the ribcage.

  “Ouch!” Nadine closed her eyes and bit her lip before the tears could escape. Bruises and blows were part of the game and, as it was, that was only a love tap. The players wore their purple and black marks like badges of honor and this was just the beginning. The announcer ramped up the mic and his voice echoed over the din of the crowd.

  “It's Killer Nadine of the Renaissance Saints alongside Pure Faith from the Sin City Serenades. Oh! It's a chicken wing to the ribs! Look out folks! Is this a cat fight waiting to happen?”

  Nadine winced as the pain slid through her body. She narrowly missed hitting the wall as she fought to control herself as the players zipped by, pushing her out of the way. She cut the track, getting back into play before the ref could turn and catch her.

  Cat fight no, but Faith was going to pay for that one later. She sped up, weaving between the players, her goal in site. Tonight Faith was the other team's jammer. One more point and the jam was over. Only one more and the bout was done. Nadine signaled to the other members of the team and they began to counter block Faith and push her temporarily toward the wall.

  A frustrated scream made her smile.

  Bingo.

  Nadine nodded and the other girls moved away, releasing Faith right into Nadine's path. It was show time. She ramped up her speed and nodded to her fellow blocker, Ana. Each of them flanked Faith as she escaped the wall, keeping her from progressing ahead of their team's jammer.

  In seconds the bout was over.

  “And it's a win for the Renaissance Saints!”

  The audience went wild, screaming with glee or discontent, and several security guards bolted into the stands to break up the fighting that ensued.

  Nadine circled the track with her team and blew a kiss toward a glowering Faith who watched, arms underneath her breasts, at the sidelines. Oh but it was going to be a long night. Ana skated by and stopped next to her.

  “Are you going to the party?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Will she come do you think?”

  “Nope. She's pissed right now but I'm hoping it'll wear off by tomorrow.”

  “I'll bet you do.” Ana snorted. “Come on, lover girl. Let's grab a beer and you can tell me all your darkest secrets.”

  “As if.”

  “Twenty minutes and a pint is all it's gonna take my friend.”

  Nadine took one last long look at her angry girl and followed her teammate into the locker room to change. Tomorrow. She would make it up to her tomorrow.

  ***

  Nadine smiled as she flipped on the mixer and let it go. The scent of baking cookies was in the air. Faith would be over any second. Smoothing her apron down around her legs, she reached for a fresh cookie sheet. Aprons were a thing of the past for most people, but Nadine collected them. With a vengeance. She was probably the only twenty-something Texan girl she knew that did. Red and white checked with little hearts all over it for Valentine’s Day, this was one of her favorites. It was crazy really, but she wanted to look nice for Faith today.

  Their schedules during derby season had been erratic over the past couple of months, and it was tough to carve time out for just the two of them. Today that was going to change. She had a question she wanted to ask Faith, but after yesterday's antics, she was a little nervous about her answer. She opened the fridge and smiled. Turkey cranberry salad, fresh lettuce, and some cut fruit were ready and the pitcher of iced tea was on the counter. Faith's favorite croissants were in a basket next to the tea.

  The salted caramel cupcakes were just about done. All she had to do was press the derby skate chocolate pieces in. She was ready to start spooning out cookie dough onto the tray. Chocolate chip, Faith’s favorite. Nadine loved derby, but today was a much needed day away from the rink and she needed some moral support.

  What if she says no?

  Cookies. She needed cookies. Now. And maybe some fresh whipped cream for hot chocolate. It was a little blustery out for a Texas February. She was going to ask Faith to move in with her. She wanted to wake up beside Faith, to know what she looked like first thing in the morning. To savor the curves she taunted her with at a distance. On again off again wasn't enough. She had to have more.

  A knock at the door roused Nadine from her ruminations and she wiped her sweaty hands on her apron. This had to go well. They loved each other, didn't they?

  “Come on in!” Nadine called out and closed her eyes with a quiet prayer.

  Please don't let me fuck this up. I need her.

  “Hey!” Faith entered the kitchen, laden with bags of groceries. Sporting a large purple bruise just below the sleeve of her t-shirt, she winced as she set the bags on the counter nearest the door.

  “How’s the arm?” Nadine came over and took the milk from the bag, setting it down. A blush crept up the back of her neck.

  Faith's lips eased into a lazy smile, her green eyes twinkling. “It’s better, thanks.”

  Nadine returned to the counter and went back to her cookie project. Her nerves were on fire and she had to calm down.

  “Sorry about that.” Nadine plopped some dough onto the tray and frowned. “You gave me a matching one, don't forget.”

  Faith laughed. “I could have knocked you flat. You're lucky you had Ana flanking you.”

  “Yeah.” Nadine grinned. Picturing the beautiful, young Asian woman made her smile. The girl had more outlandish outfits than she had ever seen. Yesterday’s black and green tight pants and micro top were over the top.

  Faith looked radiant despite the bruise. Her dark brown hair was drawn up in a messy up-do. The shade of lipstick she wore was just pink enough to bring out the blush in her cheeks with enough brown to highlight her hair. The jeans she sported were painted on like a second skin, and her shirt made Nadine smile. It covered her breasts tightly, accentuating her curves to the extreme. Warmth tingled in her deepest places just thinking about how good it would feel to taste those breasts. Nadine pushed her response back and made a joke about Faith's shirt to keep things moving.

  “I Kissed a Girl, huh? Since when?” Nadine teased and slid the cookie sheet onto the top of the stove, the aroma of cookies making her stomach growl.

  “Since always, babe.” Faith’s lips twitched into a cocky grin. “It's been awhile, hasn't it?”

  “Too long.” Nadine blushed. Her stomach twisted and butterflies took flight. She held the wooden spoon in her hand and tried to get her tongue to cooperate.

  “In fact...there was something I wanted to talk to you about.” Faith opened the fridge and slid a box of butter inside, shutting it with a snap.

  “Really. What?” Nadine used a spatula, removing the cookies from the parchment paper and sliding them onto the cooling rack. She turned to look and froze.

  Faith was holding up a wooden spoon with a shiny red bow tied to one end.

  “What’s that?”

  “A wooden spoon.”

  Nadine rolled her eyes. “Well, duh. I can see that. What’s it for?”

  “You.”

  “I already have one.” She lifted the wooden spoon from the mixing bowl and held it up. “See?”

  Faith chuckled and removed the bow. “Not like this you don’t.”

  Nadine crinkled her nose and frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  Faith grinned. She walked toward Nadine, leaned forward, and gave her a light kis
s on the lips. “Ana called me this morning.”

  “Oh she did, did she? About what?”

  “I think you know.”

  Nadine scooped out the last of the batter onto the baking sheet and shook her head. She opened the oven door, slid the tray in, and switched on the timer.

  “Nope. Not a clue. The last time I talked to her was yesterday after the bout.”

  When I obsessed about asking you to move in with me. Oh shit!

  Nadine's stomach twisted into a series of knots. Did Ana tell her what she was planning?

  I'm going to kill her.

  “I see that glint in your eyes. You know exactly what I'm talking about.”

  Faith moved closer and yanked Nadine forward, spinning her toward the counter. Holding her still, Faith smacked Nadine on her jean-covered ass with the spoon.

  “Ouch! What was that for?” Nadine rubbed her backside.

  “That was from Ana. She said you deserved it.”

  “Why that little...”

  Faith sidled closer and sealed her lips against Nadine's. Soft and supple, they tasted like strawberries and chocolate. Nadine leaned in for more. Nadine groaned and pressed herself against Faith, finally giving into the fire that had been brewing inside her.

  Faith smiled. “I thought so. You do want me.”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Yeah. About that...” Faith swung the spoon in the air. “You owe me for yesterday.”

  “I do not!” Nadine harrumphed, crossing her arms under her breasts.

  “Nadine...”

  “What?” She asked crossly.

  “My cookies are burning.”

  The scent hit her at the same time Faith's words computed.

  “Oh shit!” Nadine scampered to the oven and hefted out the tray of burnt cookies. Crispy and black, they resembled tiny throwing disks with chocolate chips embedded in them.

  “Oh no. I really was trying to make it up to you.” Tears glittered in Nadine’s eyes as she looked at Faith.