Cynthia Carter paced impatiently back and forth along the train platform as she waited for the 7:10 from New York City to arrive. The station manager had made some sort of announcement about a small track fire causing a minor delay, but Cynthia really hadn't paid it too much attention. All she knew that the longer it took Courtney to arrive, the less time they would have to spend together over the weekend.
Running her fingers through her short graying blonde hair, the 62 year old newspaper publisher looked down the long empty length of track for the fourteenth time. A quick glance at her watch told her that the train was now 40 minutes late.
The importance Cynthia attached to her daughter's visit was reflected in her mode of dress. Normally, Cynthia spent her days in casual shorts and light blouses in the summer and sweat suits in the colder months. If she really had to, she would wear a business jacket and slacks for a meeting. She had long ago stopped caring how she looked to other people. Friends who passed her on the train platform were surprised to see her in a rather attractive blue dress, a garment that greatly illustrated her still considerable charms.
Most people were surprised when Cynthia mentioned her age because she looked at least a decade younger. Standing 5' 8", her weight had fluctuated between 160 and 170 lbs most of her adult life. Spread rather evenly over her frame, most of the weight seemed centered in her large 38DD bust. She was still a formidable enough presence to turn the heads of men thirty years her junior.
"Station manager says the train just left Bluefield." said a young man who walked up behind Cynthia. "Should be here in another 10 minutes."
"Thank you, " Cynthia said to the teenager as she again looked down the track. "But I'll believe that when I see it pulling in."
Sure enough, it was closer to twenty minutes before the silver and white train pulled into the station. Starting at the front of the train, Cynthia worked her way through the crowd looking for Courtney. The train had been packed, the earlier two scheduled runs having been canceled. After a fruitless effort that resulted in getting no further back than the second car, Cynthia decided to just wait by the ticket office and let her daughter find her instead.
The crowds quickly dissipated and it wasn't long before the blue clad woman heard a familiar voice calling out to her.
"Mother ... over here!" the voice shouted.
Through a small group of commuters, Cynthia could see a red figure waving her hand to get her attention. A broad smile on her face, she briskly walked over to her, unwilling to simply stand and wait.
Before Courtney could say a word, her mother had embraced her in a bear hug and planted a kiss on her cheek. While it was in reality only about five weeks since they'd seen each other, it had felt like months to Cynthia.
"Let me look at you." Cynthia said as she broke the hug and stepped back.
Courtney was wearing a rather expensive red business jacket with matching skirt. Her long blonde hair was tied up in a weave and she wore only a hint of makeup, just matching lipstick and a hint of powder. Unlike her mother, she felt the image she projected was everything. Yet then again, Courtney was just starting out in the world of business. It was hard enough getting some men to take you seriously without having them look at you without seeing just a potential bedmate.
Their third child, Courtney had been born rather late in Cynthia's life. The news that she was pregnant again at 40 had sent a shock wave through her life. Since she and her husband owned and operated their own business, it wasn't that hard to make the transition to working mother. Yet by the time Courtney turned six and started school, their small office supply company had grown so successful that she decided to give it up and concentrate full time on being a mother. Today, 22 years later, the firm was three times the size it'd been at the time of Courtney's birth.
Although she was still a full partner in the family business, Cynthia had decided against going back when Courtney had left home for college. Instead, she'd bought into a small local paper and eventually became its co-publisher. It was something she could call her very own.
"Is Daddy with you?" Courtney asked as she looked around into the crowd.
"I'm afraid that he's not home this weekend." the older woman said, her voice just a little reluctant. "He flew up to Boston yesterday to make a presentation to some new clients about our new software line. He thinks it'll bring a lot of new business to the company."
"I kind of expected he'd come up with some kind of excuse not to be here." Courtney said, her tone revealing that she didn't believe a word of her mother's excuse. "He usually does when I come home."
Cynthia wanted to say something to refute her accusation against her father, but the words wouldn't come. The reason being that what she said was true. The only time father and daughter had seen each other over the last two years had been at large family functions. He hadn't even attended her graduation.
"Your father does love you, dear." Cynthia said. "He just has a hard time accepting things as they are."
"Well he's going to have to accept it eventually." Courtney said. "No one's going to say a magic word and change me into what he expected me to be."
Cynthia's smile hid the fact that she too originally had a hard time accepting her daughter's lifestyle. She still remembered the day, back in her junior year of college, when her precious baby girl had announced to friends and family that she was a lesbian. Unlike her husband, she quickly came to grips with the idea, realizing that however and with whoever she lived her life, she was still her daughter. And no matter what, she loved her and only wanted her to be happy.
"It's getting late." Cynthia said, changing the subject. "I originally thought we'd go out to dinner, but with all the delays, maybe we should just head home."
"That'd be fine with me, I am a little tired." Courtney said as she turned and looked over her shoulder. "Er ... mom, there's something I neglected to mention to you when we talked last night..."
With that, a tall black woman stepped up to Courtney. The look of recognition on her face told Cynthia that they knew each other.
"I finally found my beeper." The woman said. "It fell through the seats."
"Mom, this is Nicole. She's a friend of mine, I invited her up for the weekend. I hope you don't mind."
Cynthia looked at the brown skinned woman. She was at least ten years older than her daughter with short curly black hair. A little taller than both Courtney and herself, she had a lean, lithe form. Soft red lips framed a flawless smile. Small compact breasts pressed against a yellow blouse and long smooth legs stretched out from beneath blue shorts.
"Why of course not," Cynthia said, hiding her disappointment that they wouldn't be spending the weekend alone. "Your friends are always welcome."
"Great." the blonde woman beamed. "I told Nicole it would be OK. I promise her a chance to get out of the city to unwind."
Nicole reached up and removed a pair of dark sunglasses, revealing a pair of sparkling blue eyes. They quickly eclipsed her engaging smile as her most striking feature.
During the drive back to her house, Cynthia learned a little more about her house guest. Nicole had lived in Manhattan most of her life and was a successful attorney. Courtney had met her a few months back and had developed a friendship while shopping for a birthday present for Cynthia. At the time, Cynthia had been surprised by the gift. Courtney really had no interest in art and such, yet the painting had been an excellent choice. The woman was friendly and quite intelligent. By the time they pulled into the driveway, she found herself liking Nicole.
"Welcome home Courtney." said the brown haired man who greeted the trio as they exited the car.
"Thank you, Edward." Courtney said, returning his smile. "It's good to be home."
Edward Graham was 20 years old and a student at the local college. In return for room, board and a small salary, he served as a sort of jack of all trades around the house. If it was broken, he fixed it. If it was dirty, he cleaned it. In the three years he had been living there, he had become almost a member of the family.
"Ed, this is my friend, Nicole." Courtney said as she turned her attention to the caramel skinned woman behind her. "She'll be staying for the weekend."
"Nice to meet you." Edward said cheerfully as he took a good look at her. "I'll get the bags." he added as he headed for the truck.
"Thanks," Cynthia said. "I made up Courtney's room this morning and we'll put Nicole in..."
Cynthia paused for a moment. Not for the first time in the last hour she considered the idea that Nicole and Courtney might be more than just friends. Did her daughter expect them to share a room?
"Put Nicole in the guest room." Courtney interjected, much to Cynthia's relief. "You'll love it." she said to her friend. "It has the most beautiful view of the garden."
"I'm sure it's beautiful." Nicole replied.
The suggestion surprised Cynthia. The guest bedroom was on the other side of the house from Courtney's room. She guessed that answered her question of just how much of close friends the two women were.
"Well you two get settled in and I'll see about getting us some dinner." Cynthia said as she headed into the house.
Dinner was simple was enjoyable. Afterwards, the three women sat around the kitchen table and chatted.
.... There is more of this story ...