Chapter 10

"So," Emily said after a minute, "how have you been?"

I just looked at her. What was up with Debbie? "Okay. How are you feeling?"

"All better, thanks to Debbie and Barb."

I looked down the hall. "Could you excuse me?" I stood up before she answered, and walked to Debbie's door. Barb had shut it when she went in.

I knocked.

"Can you give us a second?" Barb called.

No. I opened the door and stepped in. "Hey, Debbie."

She was curled up, holding a pillow over her head, still crying.

"Michael, she..." Barb started.

I held up my hand. "I got it Barb. Really. If you can give us a minute, we'll figure this out."

Barb looked alarmed, but then stood up and left the room, closing the door behind her.

"Are you going to ask me to sit?" I asked.

Debbie cried louder.

"Deb?"

"Ahhg sugg," I heard from under the pillow.

"Sweetheart, if we're going to talk, you'll have to take the pillow off your face."

Debbie lifted the pillow off her face a bit. "I said, 'I suck'."

I couldn't help myself. I burst out laughing.

Notebook: When your girlfriend is baring her soul, do not laugh.

The pillow came off and an angry Debbie came up looking for a fight. "What are you laughing at!" she said, eyes flashing.

I tried to control my giggles. "You certainly do suck, Deb," I said. "But I like it a lot. A lot."

Debbie missed with the pillow. She didn't seem to mind though. I reached down and hauled her up and into a big hug.

"Debbie? Do you remember what you said to me a few weeks back?"

"Huh?" she said through sniffles.

"You said, 'Are you my boyfriend?'" I reminded her.

"And you said you thought you were."

"And then you accused me of ignoring you," I said. "But then you said something I remember. You said 'Look Michael... if we're a couple, we need to figure out a way to spend time together. Okay?' Do you remember?"

"Yes Michael." She wiped her eyes and face on my shirt. A bit of a smile showed. "Then I came over and played with myself while you watched me."

"You can recreate that part, if you'd like," I said generously.

"Shouldn't it be your turn?" Debbie asked.

"I think we'd both enjoy it more if you did it," I said.

"Do you hate me?" Debbie asked.

"No Debbie. I can't imagine ever hating you."

"I don't know what happened," she said.

"Emily happened."

Debbie hung her head. "Yeah."

"Deb?" I asked. "Don't be mad at me for asking... but do you like her 'that' way?"

"You... You mean, like... How do you mean?"

"Are you attracted to her?"

Debbie put her face against my chest and cried.

That, in case you missed it, is a "yes."

"Have you done anything about it?" I asked.

Debbie shook her head no. Whew.

"But you're tempted?" I asked.

A nod.

"Have you ever done that? With anybody?"

A nod.

"So... You're bisexual?"

"I guess," Debbie said softly. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? Christ Debbie, why are you sorry? All you've done is tell me you can find and give physical pleasure with women. Unless you're actually doing it, and not telling me, then you have nothing to apologize to me for!" I was mad that she thought I'd be mad.

"You don't hate me for being bi?"

"Who you're attracted to isn't an issue. Do you hate me for being straight?"

"What about Emily?"

"Are you planning on sleeping with her?" I asked.

"No, but I did let my infatuation with her get between us," Debbie said. "I fantasized about sleeping with her..."

"Let's just work at not letting it get between us again."

"Why are you so damned nice?" Debbie asked.

The blowjobs? "Because I care for you." Well, I do. But the blowjobs are pretty nice, too.

Debbie kissed the point of my chin. "I think I more than 'care for' you, Michael."

I hugged her close and whispered in her ear, "I think I more than 'care for' you, too, Debra Ellen Alexander."

I don't really think Debbie wanted to go back out for dinner, but she squared her shoulders, washed her face, and let me lead her back to the dining room. Emily looked at both of us a bit oddly, but neither she nor Barb said anything about Debbie's earlier departure.

As hard as it was for me to believe, dinner conversation centered on the University of Wyoming's rodeo team's chances for the upcoming spring half of the season. I know, in Boston, we'd have been talking about the Red Sox vis-à-vis the Yankees. In Laramie, it was common knowledge that the school's rodeo team was a powerhouse in team roping and steer wrestling. One of the Cowgirls was a highly thought of goat tier. No, I don't know what that means either.

I let the conversation wash over me, just happy that Debbie and I had reconnected; and, I'll admit it, curious about Debbie's sexuality. I visualized her, and maybe Emily, locked together...

I'm sure Debbie knew what I was thinking. Barb might have, too. "Michael," Barb asked, "would you like to help me with the coffee?"

My erection had conspired with my jeans to make standing up an embarrassing proposition. "Uh," I said. "Um. Sure." Go down! I told myself to no avail. I looked at Debbie. She knew. She winked.

Dammit.

Fine.

I stood up.

Debbie giggled. Emily gasped, and then blushed. Barb pretended not to see anything.

Fine.

I followed Barb to the kitchen. Part of me got there before the rest.

"So she told you," Barb said softly.

"What?" I asked as Mr. Innocent.

"Michael!"

"Yes, Barb. She told me."

"Are you okay? Mad?"

I laughed. I was just horny. "I'm okay." Really.

"What about Emily?"

"Well, I think she's cute and everything," I said. "But I like Debbie more."

"Debbie tells me you're a goof. What about Debbie and Emily?"

"Is there a Debbie and Emily? I thought nothing had really happened?"

"Well, I don't think anything has happened, actually. But I can see Debbie's thinking about it..."

"Do you think they'd let me watch?" I asked with a wink. I laughed.

"God. I know better than to talk to a teenager about sex."

"And I know better than to talk to my girlfriend's mother about sex," I said with a smile.

"Touché."

Is that French? "Where do you keep the cream?"

"Use milk," Barb said, taking my respect for her down a notch or two.

The coffee was done. Barb poured it into a serving pot, and picked up four cups. I brought the milk and sugar.

While we'd been out, Emily had moved to my seat for some reason, leaving me the seat next to Debbie. "Hey," I said sitting down.

"Hey, yourself."

I leaned over, and whispered in her ear, "Are we going to play tonight?"

"Horny?" she whispered back.

I just looked at her.

Emily was busy adding a little coffee to a cup of milk and sugar.

"Sorry," Debbie said. She looked at her mom. "Mom? I'm going to stay over at Michael's tonight, okay?"

Emily just stirred her "coffee."

"Sure, honey. Emily and I will be fine, won't we Emily?"

"Uh, sure," Emily said. I couldn't tell if she was upset, or happy. I'd hate to play poker against her... but she'd make a great bridge partner.

After coffee, Debbie and I said our goodbyes, and drove home.

"Is your mom mad at me?" Debbie asked as I parked the Jeep.

"I don't think so," I said. Was she?

"Hi, Mom," I hollered as we walked through the door. "Debbie's here."

"Hi, Honey, hi Debbie," Mom called from the office.

Debbie looked shy. "Uh. So, what do you want to do?" she asked.

Crawl into bed. "I don't know," I said. "Do you want to watch some tee-vee?" Sometimes I think I'm a bit shallow.

"I'm so sorry, Michael," Debbie said.

"Deb," I said, "It's over. That was yesterday. This is today."

Debbie stepped over to the office doorway. "Toni? I want to apologize to you, too. I was being a jerk. I'm sorry."

Mom was out of the office in a flash, pulling Debbie into a big hug. Debbie started to cry. "Shhh," Mom said. "It's okay."

"Do you mind if I stay over?" Debbie asked Mom.

"Of course not," Mom kissed Debbie's cheek, "just let him get enough sleep so he can function in class tomorrow."

Debbie blushed — and stopped crying. "Promise."

Mom went back to her computer, leaving us the rest of the house.

Debbie turned to me. "Let's get naked," she suggested. "Then I can really apologize."

No. I frowned. "No, Debbie, let's not take any upset to bed. You've already said you're sorry. That's enough."

"Then let's get naked and celebrate putting this behind us."

I pointed at my resurgent erection. "You want me to put this behind you?"

"Just not in my behind," Debbie said earnestly.

Fifteen minutes later and I had reason to tell Debbie that she should tryout for the Nationals in fellatio.