Chapter 9: Emily Christine

Lily made it clear that she wasn’t always going to greet me with a hot meal when I got home. Not that I ever expected that. She worked a full-time job and the spaghetti had just about exhausted her kitchen skills. I wasn’t much better, but we both figured that we could eat better, healthier, and cheaper if we bought real food and cooked it than if we bought instant noodles. My schoolwork was almost all reading, though I had a paper due for my English Comp class this week. I was spending most of my ‘spare’ time knocking on doors to try to get listings. And three times a week, I was dragging the vacuum cleaner up and down the stairs to keep the entryways clean. Two more of the fourplexes were opening by the end of the month and it turned out that I was cleaning up a lot of construction mess. The apartments were all given a deep professional cleaning before they were leased, but the weather had turned wet by the end of September and mud got ground into the hall carpets during the moves and final stage of construction.

By the end of September, I had two more closings and was beginning to breathe easier about my financial health.

And my health in general.

I went to the University Clinic and got an obstetrics exam, met a pediatrician, and got myself slated for delivery. The doctor said I was in good health and the baby sounded strong, but that I should watch my diet more carefully. That was no news. We’d already started eating sensible meals. We even packed each other lunches in the morning. They wanted me to attend birth classes and I asked Lily if she’d join me.

“Really? You’d really want me with you for something so ... intimate.”

“Lily, you’ve learned more of my secrets than I knew I had. I don’t even understand ... Well, Lily, why haven’t you made a move on me? I’m pretty sure I’ve shown that I’m open to it. But every time we get close, you back away. What am I doing wrong?”

“I’m scared.”

“Scared? But you’re the one who has experience and knows what’s going on. I’m the one who’s scared,” I said. We sat at the dining room table next to each other while we ate a baked chicken breast (skinless), brown rice, and steamed vegetables. I decided I needed to get more herbs.

“That’s it. Experience,” she said as if that explained everything. “I ... I want to be intimate with you because I’ve discovered I have deep feelings for you. No, wait. Don’t tell me right now. Please. I know you like me and that we are good friends. The best of friends. And I will attend every birth class with you and I’ll help you through the delivery and be there for you every step of the way. But ... You are interested in ... being with me ... sexually ... because you are curious. You don’t know if you’ll like it. You want to know if you are really bi or if you’ll be disgusted when it comes down to it. And I’m scared that you’ll be disgusted. I’m afraid that we’ll get together and you’ll say, ‘well that was interesting, but I’m not really into it.’ And I’d be devastated.”

Tears were leaking out of Lily’s eyes and I used my napkin to gently wipe them away. I guess I understood. I was curious. I got all tingly when Lily and I kissed. We’d even touched each other’s breasts while we kissed goodnight a few days ago. But I had to admit that I shuddered a little when I thought about putting my face between her legs. I got plenty wet when I thought about her doing it, but if we went all the way, it couldn’t be one-sided.

“I understand. I won’t push until I know. I never want to hurt you, Lily. You really are my best friend. Please say you’ll help me with birth classes, though. Okay?”

“Okay,” she sniffled.

I wished I could tell her I’d been through this birth stuff before and it was painful and lonely. My baby had been born on December 29 and I was alone. Jesse got a huge bonus for staying in the oil fields during the holiday. My mother dropped me off at the hospital when I went into labor and didn’t come back. Jesse’s mother showed up in time to fill out the birth certificate and name my baby while I was still in recovery. They brought Willa to me three times a day so I could give her a bottle and bond, and then they took her back to the nursery so I could regain my strength. After three days, they handed her to me and rolled me out the front door where my mother met me to take me back home.

I wept for days. I didn’t make a conscious decision not to breast feed. They just handed me bottles with formula in them when they brought her to me. I was completely unprepared for having a child or a husband or in-laws.

This time, my daughter would be mine.

I read every pamphlet the La Leche League provided. Lily and I went to every Lamaze class together. And I’d been through raising my daughter. I knew a little about how her mind would work and how to relate to her. We had bonded, in spite of all the interference.

“I don’t know how I’m going to react to seeing you breastfeeding a baby,” Lily sighed. “I think I’m going to be envious.”

“Of me or the baby?” I asked. Lily blushed and nodded.

We’d just come from the class that talked about the hours after birth and how to care for the newborn. One of the other women in the class went into labor during the lecture. Thanksgiving was next week and we were all supposed to be within a month of our due dates, but this one decided to make an early appearance. It was pretty exciting.

“Would you put some of that cream on my belly?” I asked. “I’m beginning to feel the stretching. I’ll never be able to wear a bikini again.”

“Have you ever worn a bikini?” she laughed. I shook my head. Oh well. “Then let’s make sure you get the opportunity. Why don’t you take your shower and get comfy? I know you have an open house tomorrow. I can pamper you a little tonight.”

I was more than willing to be pampered and the shower felt nice. Really nice. I took a few minutes to use the detachable shower massage where it would do the most good. Lily had insisted that we have a plastic stool in the shower so that I could sit and not risk slipping in the tub. I thought it was silly until I had the shower massage beating up between my legs. Allen still held the honor of being the only other person who had ever given me an orgasm in this life, but it wasn’t like I neglected myself. At nearly eight months, though, it was getting hard for me to reach around the baby to put my fingers to use. The shower massage gave me blessed relief. And I was thankful for the stool. By the time I’d finished abusing my clit with the pulsing stream of water, I couldn’t have stayed standing. I tried to stifle my moans, but at one point I was pretty sure that if Lily was in any part of the apartment other than her room, she’d hear me. It took a few minutes to recover.

I came out of the bathroom wrapped in a towel and with a towel wrapped around my head.

“Feel better now?” Lily asked. She didn’t quite snicker.

“Um ... Yes.”

“Well, lie down and let’s put some of this cream on your stretched out tummy. I’d like to say hi to the little baby inside. Have you decided what to name her?”

“Not Willa.”

“God! I hope not!” she laughed. I lay on the bed and Lilly tugged the towel apart. She caught her breath.

“You’re ... um ... naked.”

“I didn’t have any clean panties to put on and my bra’s been killing me all day. I need to go shopping for something that will hold the new queen-sized boobs.”

“This is going to be hard.”

“You’re a girl. Do you have some equipment I don’t know about?”

“Are you teasing me?” she asked as she rubbed the soothing cream into my belly. She bent forward and kissed it lightly. The baby kicked. “I felt that!”

“Me, too. I think she likes you.” Lily continued to rub the cream onto me. Just her gentle touch felt so good. Not only was I relaxing, I could feel my juices moving. And talk about getting hard. My nipples were straining toward the ceiling. She covered the underside of my belly and brushed against my mound. I moaned.

“If you are ever going to wear a bikini, we’re going to have to trim your bush a little. Do you want to do it before the doctor gets between your legs to welcome the squirt?”