Chapter 5

Past

Betty didn't think the day would ever arrive, but somehow she ended up standing in front of Annabella's, working up the nerve to go in. It was 6:20. She wanted to be there first, wanted to be able to study Stacy's face when Stacy finally saw her.

Her dad had been no problem. He thought she was going out with Robert for the evening. She'd asked Robert beforehand, and he said it would be okay this once, because it was so important to her, and he'd cover. He also volunteered to pick her up and drop her off at the restaurant, and said to call him if she needed a ride home. He was such a nice guy.

It had taken hours for her to get her hair and makeup just so. She was wearing her new pale pink evening dress, with matching everything. Dad probably thought she was wanting to turn every head in the place, making the guys drool, and the girls green with envy. He was close. It was just one head she wanted to turn. You'd rarely see anyone better in the fashion magazines. Betty wasn't really sure why it was so important to her to make a good impression on Stacy, but reasoned that it couldn't hurt.

Finally, steeling herself, she walked in. The maitre'd was the same lady who'd been there so long before.

"Hello, can I help you?"

"Yes. I have a reservation. It's for Betty, uh, I mean Elizabeth Brust."

"Elizabeth... Elizabeth... Yes, right here. Oh. Now I remember you, you've been in once before, haven't you? Quite some time ago."

"Well, yes I have."

"So you're that Elizabeth. Welcome. I'll have Jacklyn show you to your table. I hope you have a very pleasant evening."

The restaurant was much more crowded than last time, even though Betty couldn't see very many of the patrons. There were quite a few waitresses (Hosts? Hostesses?) running around. All were wearing the same style of dress, but some were in blue, some were in pink, two others were in black, and she'd seen one in white. The odd thing was that the accouterments rarely matched the colour of the dress. One person in a pink dress would be wearing blue jewelry and a black scarf, one in a blue dress had pink accessories. The ones in black were all in black, but the one in white had red accessories, the only colour she'd seen other than blue, pink, white and black.

When Jacklyn finished guiding Betty through the maze to her table, Betty had to ask.

"What do all the different colours the waitresses, uh, I mean hosts, what do the colours they wear mean?"

Jacklyn looked at her for a moment, wearing a very strange expression. Then, with a big smile, she said "You are an innocent, aren't you. Well, I'm not going to ruin things by explaining the differences. It will probably help you to know, though, that all the ladies wearing black or blue dresses, like me, are hosts, and the ladies in pink, white, or yellow are hostesses. Now, would you like something to drink while you wait?"

This only served to confuse her further. She decided to ignore it for now.

"What would you recommend? I don't usually drink much, and I don't want to get drunk."

"I'd recommend a Brazilian Special, light. It's a good, smooth, cream coffee, light on the tastebuds, with just enough creme 'd cacao added to give it a slight edge."

"Okay, I'll try it."

The coffee was good, and wasn't too strong.

Stacy (sorry, not Stacy - Anastasia) came in at 6:45. She looked better than she had the night of the show. Her hair was up, piled high, with a simple silver comb helping to hold it in place. Her makeup was flawless, lipstick a pale pink. The dress she wore was a light blue smock, dropping to just above her knees, cut to display her figure. Dark blue stockings, shoes, belt, and a white purse completed the picture. She looked beautiful - nervous and uptight, yes, but still gorgeous.

After very simple "hi's" were exchanged, Betty slid over into the corner seat, leaving Stacy sitting down on the outside. The older girl ordered a Berlin mint coffee to start with. Neither said anything until after their host delivered her drink. She broke the silence.

"Why did you invite me here today?"

It took a minute for Betty to answer.

"I have to know. That night we were here, I need to know if it was us, or if it was my imagination. This is the only way for me to find out. I thought I'd figured it out once, way back then, but I don't know anymore. Please, let's not ruin anything by talking right now. I'd like to have us enjoy a really nice meal together. Please, Anastasia?"

"Yes Elizabeth. I think I could enjoy having a nice meal. Together."

When their host came to ask about appetizers, she also asked if the ladies wanted full dinners or the lighter portions. Lighter consisted of less of everything except the main dish. This was done because there were many women who couldn't finish a full meal, never mind enjoy dessert afterwards, and felt guilty leaving food behind. Both asked for the lighter portions.

It was a fabulous dinner. They shared a shrimp cocktail for an appetizer, and ordered a half-litre of the house dry white wine to go with their meal. Next, Betty had some Beaufort bisque soup while Stacy had a Spanish salad. Their main course choices were veal chops savoyarde, wine-braised pork tenderloin with mushrooms, or chicken breast with artichokes. Betty picked the veal and Stacy picked the pork.

They shared some from each other's plates, of course. Betty made the first move by stealing a mushroom from Stacy, then looking totally innocent, like she'd never ever do anything like that. Stacy retaliated by pointing out one of the hostesses, then stealing a piece of ham from Betty (yes, that's part of the veal dish) when she looked up. It escalated from there. Betty was never sure afterwards whether she'd had more of her meal or of Stacy's. Both were delicious.

They both relaxed a bit after finishing the main course, before ordering dessert, and just leaned back. Betty ordered another half-litre of wine. She also asked to see a menu, wanting to know what other desserts were available. Their host brought them desserts-only menus. Everything had pictures, even the weekly special. Betty thought she'd gain five pounds just looking.

After the two of them drooled for a while, pointing out some that looked especially nice, they ordered. Stacy went for the chocolate raspberry torte (what can I say - she likes raspberries). Betty couldn't decide whether she wanted that fruited streusel thingy with the orange cream, or the Grand Marnier chocolate mousse torte. When Stacy pointed at the little river of chocolate sauce running off the whipped cream, she went for the chocolate mousse. Yes, these were decadent times.

Before the desserts came, there was a surprise. The maitre'd arrived at the table with two other girls, one 'host' and one 'hostess'.

"Good evening Elizabeth, Anastasia. To honor your birthday (nodding at Stacy) and your first official dinner here (nodding at Betty), may I present a gift from the management."

The 'gifts' were two beautiful bouquets of flowers, both centerpieced with carnations surrounded by pink, white, and green. One had white carnations, the other had pink.

"They're gorgeous!"

Betty reached out to take the one with pink carnations, but Stacy stopped her and handed her the white bouquet. She took the pink for herself.

Both girls thanked the maitre'd and the host and hostess.

Dessert done, sipping on the last of the wine, coffees on order, Stacy relaxed by slipping off her shoes, turning, and sitting in the corner. Betty slipped off her shoes, turned, leaned back into the corner padding, and put both of her feet into Stacy's lap. The older girl turned and looked at her, wearing a puzzled expression. It looked like she was about to say something, but then turned back without a word. She began to massage the feet in her lap.

They sat there like that for some time, through the last of the wine and then through the coffees, Betty watching Stacy, Stacy staring off into nowhere. Betty broke their long silence.

"Will you invite me here for dessert again?"

After a long pause. "Would you like me to?"

"Yes please. But not right away. Maybe in a week or two."

"It's a date. Guaranteed."

Betty ordered two more coffees. She didn't want to leave yet.

"Elizabeth, how did you arrange this? It's a member's only restaurant."

"When I first called, they said that if you were coming, they would let me use your membership, if you agreed. That wasn't necessary."

"It wasn't?"

"No. I'm a member."

Stacy turned and looked Betty straight in the eye. "How did you become a member?"

Betty smiled and shrugged her shoulders. After a minute with no other reply, Stacy turned her head back and stared off into the distance again.

"Elizabeth, do you know what this place is?"

"No, Anastasia, I don't. You and a few other people have made me realize it's not just a nice restaurant. I found out that some of the girls are 'hosts', and some are 'hostesses'. It just made me more confused."

"That's all right. In time, you'll learn. Right now, we'll leave you as an innocent, in white and pink."

Eventually they packed up to go. Stacy offered Betty a ride, but was refused. She said she wanted the evening to end just like this. It was late, so she called a cab. She also called Robert to let him know she was okay and wouldn't need a ride home, and thanked him again.

Betty felt better now than she had in a long, long time.

Present

The two of them just sat there for a while, Stacy humming a bit and playing with Betty's hair, Betty trying to sort out how she felt about moving away from home, her father, Stacy, her mother, moving in with Stacy, how her friends would react, how it would feel living with Stacy, going back to school monday, how she was going to survive on her own, and how nice it felt to be sitting there with Stacy. She giggled, suddenly realizing where her thoughts kept circling around to.

"What's so funny, Little Blossom?"

"Well, it's a bit strange. I'm trying to sort out what to do about dad, moving out, school, and everything else. The trouble is, every line of thought I follow ends up with you in it. I guess I really am in love."

"Now that you brought it up, I've been sitting here daydreaming, not thinking about anything in particular, except about how right it feels with you here. I already know I love you. I figured that out this past week. I missed you so much it hurt. I just didn't know how you felt, because we've never used the word love before. I don't want to lose you. Now, look me in the eye. Elizabeth, I love you."

Betty's heart just melted, right there. Stacy was serious, and meant every word. Betty knew she loved Stacy, but until that moment didn't realize how much, or how much Stacy loved her.

Fighting back her tears, Betty replied. "Anastasia Celeste Augden, I love you too. Now kiss me." And they did, in a long, passionate embrace. It was like being in heaven, being held by the person she most loved in the world, knowing that she was loved just as much in return, and then feeling and tasting the passion in those lips and that tongue, their kiss being both soft and sensuous. Betty could care less that it hurt her face. This was interrupted by an "Ahem" from the doorway, some time after it started.

"I hate to interrupt you two lovebirds, but the tea is hot and the sandwiches are cold. Therefore I need you both in the kitchen. Come along." They got up and followed Joyce. A plate of cold cuts, bread, and fixings was set out, along with a large pot of fresh tea.

After they all sat down and the tea was poured, Joyce spoke again.

"I assume from what I saw in there that you've made up your mind where you'll be staying?"

"I think I'll be moving in with Stacy. That is, if she'll have me."

"Elizabeth, you're being silly again. I'd be heartbroken if you even considered going anywhere else. Of course I want you." And with a wink, "In more ways than one."

Past

Sunday she'd had another date with Dave, her boyfriend. To his surprise and delight she was the aggressor that night, doing things he'd only ever had wet dreams of. She satisfied herself and him physically several times, but emotionally she felt very little. Finally she had to admit to herself that she was using him as a shield against finding someone who would inspire feelings, and possibly pain again, in her. It was time to let him go, regardless of how things went with Stacy.

Stacy called the following week, setting up a date for thursday, around eight. Betty was thrilled, but nervous and uptight as well. She liked Stacy a lot, and knew now that her feelings for the other girl were real. It just felt right in the restaurant when they'd had dinner. This yearning to be with Stacy was there and hard to resist. Could she? According to the half-conversation she'd heard in Diana's office, Stacy had some pretty strong feelings too. She just didn't want to fall into the same trap she'd landed in before. This next date would determine if she'd continue seeing Stacy, or forget all about her, regardless of her own emotions.

At precisely 8:00, Betty was in Stacy's car and they were heading to the restaurant. The only words spoken were by Betty. "We'll have a nice long talk after we eat."

Betty had an English trifle along with a cafe Belge, and Stacy had key lime pie and the house coffee. They split a half-litre of the house dry white wine. Betty made a mental note to find out what kind it was. It was good.

After their desserts, they relaxed. It wasn't the same booth this time. It had and 'L' shaped seat, but both ends were open. Surprising the hell out of Stacy, Betty took the initiative, sliding right around the corner, putting her now-shoeless feet up on the other side, and leaning back into Stacy. In self-defense, the older girl put her arm around Betty's waist to keep herself from being slowly pushed off the seat.

"Anastasia, do you still have that lover?"

Stacy was again surprised, this time by the forthright nature of the question. Her mental image of Betty was that of a rather shy, timid girl.

"You mean the one I had last year, when we, uh, parted company?"

"That's the one."

"No. We broke up again about a month after that."

"Why?"

"<sigh> That's a difficult question. It was probably your fault. I was always very much physically attracted to the lady, and she could do things for me that nobody else I've met could. The one thing this lady wasn't, though, was a friend, or a nice person. I needed more than just the physical part of a relationship. It took a while after our split for your words to sink in. I was cheating myself in this relationship, and in any others where I couldn't connect physically, emotionally and mentally. It was also cheating on the other person, because I'd be looking for what was missing with someone else."

"Have you had any lovers since then?"

"None. I have had bedmates, but that's not the same. With them, we both knew we were looking for physical pleasure, with no commitment."

"I've had a bunch of different bedmates too, since then."

<Insert suitable pause for Stacy to get over her shock>

"Elizabeth, what have you been up to?"

"I've been trying to find someone who could give me some spark, or some real emotional highs. Sex was supposed to be the greatest thing ever, so I tried it. I lost my virginity to a half-drunken lout who jerked himself off with my vagina. After that, I let a few of my dates go all the way. They were all beginners and couldn't even satisfy me physically.

"I finally found a nice guy who could give me pleasure, and did every chance he could get, but even with good sex I still felt empty and hollow afterwards, not satisfied. There was no real feeling, no big release, when we had sex. I've decided to drop him because of that. He deserves to have someone who'll be really happy with him."

"It sounds like you've become very experienced and jaded over the last year."

"No, I don't think so. I haven't found anybody who's good for me yet, who can teach me what I need to know. And I'm not experienced. A half-dozen near-identical copies of the same wham-bam-thank-you-ma'am guy isn't my idea of enlightening. Now, if only I could find a straight version of Robert."

"Is that what you're looking for? A guy that can entertain, thrill, and excite you, all at the same time, and still be good in bed?"

"I'm looking for... someone... who can do that for me."

Stacy ordered another half-litre of wine and two house coffees.

"Elizabeth, you've changed an awful lot since last year. That person I taught English to could never sit in a restaurant discussing her sex life in public. And she'd never be caught dead in public with another girl's arm around her."

"Would the old Elizabeth have politely told you to shove-off in a restaurant, like I did last year?"

"Touche. I guess I don't know you as well as I thought I did. You are more aggressive than you used to be, though."