Chapter 17

Cindy flowed into the empty diner like a warm wind over the tundra. Like she carried her own entourage, even though she was alone. She picked a spot and plunked down. Gale came over to her to take her order.

"Hi" Cindy bubbled.

"Hello, what can I get for you?" Gale asked, as if the question didn't matter.

"Ouch, why so negative?" Cindy asked.

"Huh? I just asked what I could get for you?" Gale said, puzzled.

"Well, since you put it that way. How about a piece of pecan pie and a cup of coffee. The same for you and your company while we share it." Cindy responded.

"I don't understand. You want to buy me a piece of pie and have me sit with you while I eat it?' Gale asked.

"Yup, sounds to me like you understand pretty well." Cindy said.

"Why?" Gale asked, suspiciously.

"Why not? You got something else to do? Looks pretty deserted to me." Cindy replied.

Gale looked at her a moment.

"Sure, why not." she said.

"Hot, ala mode. Vanilla for me if you got it." Cindy bubbled.

Gale nodded and went to fill the order. She couldn't help looking back at the bubbly strawberry blonde girl from time to time, wondering why she wanted her company.

Cindy looked around gaily. She sort of presented the image of a bubble head, but Gale sensed that wasn't the case at all. Her eyes were recording what she saw, not flitting from object to object due to a short attention span.

Gale served the pie and coffee, then sat down on the other side of the booth.

Cindy took a bite and savored it a moment.

"Good Pie." she commented, taking a sip of coffee.

"Yeah, I buy it with my own two hands everytime I run out." Gale said, sarcastically.

"How come you're so down on the world?" Cindy asked, enjoying her pie.

Gale looked at her a moment.

"What makes you say that?" Gale asked, looking at her pie.

"Oh, it just seems like ... I don't know. Like there's no joy in your life." Cindy said.

"Well, you're right about that. There's not much." Gale said.

"How come?" Cindy asked.

"Oh, I don't know. Guess I just don't have much to be joyful about any more?" Gale replied.

"So you did at one time then. What changed?" Cindy asked.

"I guess I did." Gale said.

"So change back, if you don't like it." Cindy suggested.

"It's not that easy for me." Gale said.

"Why not? Don't you want to feel joy?" Cindy asked.

"Well, sure. Everybody does, I guess." Gale said.

"Mmm not everybody. Some people like being depressed. But I don't think you're one of them. I think you'd like to feel joy. I don't think you like being depressed." Cindy said, finishing up her pie.

"No, I don't much like it ... How come you're asking all these questions?" Gale asked, in suspicion.

"Why not? You seem like a nice person. I was just wondering why you weren't happier. I think you'd like to be, but maybe there's something bothering you that keeps you from being happy. Whatever it is, I'd get rid of it myself. But I guess that's up to you. Thanks for the company. Maybe we'll talk again sometime." Cindy said, laying a ten dollar bill on the table and sliding out of the booth.

"Thanks. I think I'd like that." Gale heard herself saying as Cindy bounced out.

Gale watched her go ... kind of shivering inside.

It wasn't that she didn't want to be happy. It was what had been done to her that made her unhappy. She'd been sort of happy at her job, although, thinking back on it, she hadn't felt much joy from it. It was just something she did. Whatever satisfaction she derived was mainly from seeing her name in print on something. She got so she didn't care much about the content. That had been determined when the newspaper had taken a turn towards gossip. Before that ... she had felt joy. When she tracked down the facts of a story and related it in an insightful and coherent manner. She had felt the joy of satisfaction of a job well done. She had felt a sense of accomplishment. After the change, it was just a job.

Then the episode of ... she still didn't know what to call it. The Jill and Susan fiasco. If they hadn't done what they had to her then they'd be ... What? The unhappy ones? Was that what she wanted?

"I was just trying to do my job." she told herself.

And what if they'd let you? Where would they be? Hadn't they just been defending themselves? Their right to live their lives the way they wanted? Did you really care how they lived their lives, or did you care about the story?

She'd read the newspaper since Jill had bought it. It was excellent. It was informative and entertaining. It celebrated the arts and a diversity of cultures. Presenting them as each a separate joy ... there was that word again ... Joy ... She'd probably feel joy if she worked for the paper now. But it was too late. She'd blown her chance.

Anyway ... the newspaper covered lifestyles in an entertaining and ethical manner ... Ethics ... why did that word haunt her as well?

She had ethics! Didn't she?

"No, you tried to destroy someone's life and then developed a personal vendetta against them when they wouldn't let you." the thought seemed to come to her.

She was startled. It was if someone had said the words to her. But there was no-one else in the little diner. There seldom was. She didn't earn much from it.

She thought about the statement. It must have been her imagination playing tricks on her. Her sub-conscious had been speaking to her. But it had told the truth. That was what had really started her. Why had that been so? Was she so foolish that she was surprised when her own mind told her the truth. And what could she do about it anyway?

She shut down the grill and put away the perishables. Tomorrow would be another long unfruitful day ... Maybe the little blonde would come back...

Outside, just round the corner, Cindy slipped off a stone planter she had been sitting on. Smiling to herself she bounced happily on down the road, sort of skipping and whistling to herself.

Gale closed up the diner and made her way to her small apartment. She slipped off her shoes and poured herself a glass of wine. Almost the only luxury she could afford. Just a glass a day. But she was unswerving in her insistence that it be a good wine. She sat back with it, not turning the TV on. She was lost in thought.

She sipped meditatively at the wine, finding to her surprise how good it was.

"You still have some degree of class." she told herself.

So where had the rest of it gone?

She found herself pulling down an old scrapbook. She seldom looked at it nowadays. It contained every word that she had ever had published.

She flipped through it. Seeing her first article. Remembering how proud she had been when it was published. She read through it. It was a good piece of work. She should have been proud of it. She read through others. They were almost all good pieces of work. All but ... where the newspaper had changed ... When it had just become a job ... From then on her work had been crap ... Crap, that was the term that Jill had used. She was right. It was crap! She found herself pulling those pages out. When she was done, she had a small pile. The rest of the book she was proud of. Just not that little pile. She closed the book and set it by the pile. She sat back drinking her wine, looking at the pile and the book. The book was a lot thicker than the pile.

"All that good work ... and a little pile of crap!" she thought to herself.

That little pile of crap had cost her the rest.

She finished her glass of wine and rinsed out the glass. She brushed her teeth and took a shower. Feeling the hot water relieve part of the stress that remained after the wine had done it's share. She still felt stressed a bit. Part of it -she realized- was that she hadn't been laid for so long she couldn't remember the last time.

"Why?" she wondered. As simply as the young blonde would have asked the question.

"Cause you don't want people to see what you're like now." came her unbidden response.

Was that what was eating at her? That she didn't want to reveal herself? And why not?

She dried and brushed out her hair, drying it and let it hang to slough off the moisture. It was nice hair, she thought. She'd always had nice hair. In fact, she'd always sort of had a nice body. She left the bath and caught her reflection in a long mirror mounted on her wall in her small apartment. She found herself examining her body in the mirror. She had muscular legs from being on her feet all day. But the rest was ... okay, really. Just not firm as she had once kept it ... back when she had written the good stuff. Before the crap. That's when it started to slip. That's when everything started to slip. But with a little work, she could firm up the rest of her body. Maybe with a little work ... she could firm up ... What? Everything? Could she?

She continued to look in the mirror. She still had a nice body, really. Overall. There was just a little bit of crap that she needed to shed. She found herself looking over at her scrapbook and the little pile next to it. Just a little bit of crap that she needed to shed? Her eyes returned to the mirror. She found herself drawing her fingers over her body. It felt good and she felt herself flush sensually. Feeling the cool air against her skin. Radiating heat from within from her shower. She looked in the mirror as she touched her nipples. They hardened under her touch and she felt a different kind of flush.

Gale turned off the lights and lay back on her bed. Still sort of touching herself. She thought about ... the little blonde?

Was that what she felt? Did she feel a sexual attraction for the blonde?

She hadn't been aware of it as they sat together. She had just been a very vivacious, dynamic, formidable woman ... formidable. The last time she had used that term she had been applying it to Susan. Jill had said ... that she wouldn't have trivialized her so. Formidable? Trivial?

Susan was formidable! But Gale knew that wasn't important to her. She had felt so much more in that brief moment that they had shaken hands. As if formidable was a trivial description. What she had felt was ... love. Love and desire. And a deep sense of loss that she would never have that desire quenched.

And there it was again. Sexual desire for another woman. Why?

Is that what she was?

She had never felt that sort of thing before Susan... and Jill ... and the young blonde tonight. He mind continued for her.

Was it just the assignment? Had it forced her to think about the touch of a woman?

Was it just that dyke Susan? And ... the others?

No, Susan was much more than just a simple dyke ... she ... was more than formidable. She was... magic. Like the film...

Gale had gone over that event again and again in her mind. There was no logical explanation for it. She had quite clearly seen Susan kiss that other woman. It had been... tender and sweet... extremely sensual...

Without realizing it, Gale had continued to touch herself as she thought about things. Now she found she had worked herself into a sexual frenzy. The thought of the kiss had affected her in ways she hadn't been prepared for.

Suddenly she ran it over and over in her mind as she rubbed herself furiously till her hips raised up off the bed and she cried out from the wracking orgasm that gripped her.

The kiss stayed in her mind as she recovered, feeling the warm glow of endorphins spreading over her body. She felt ashamed for letting herself feel what she had.

She wasn't a dyke! She liked men!... and ... Susan? ... Jill? ... Young blondes?

She blocked off her thoughts and forced herself to drift into a gentle sleep.

"That was nicely done. I'm quite proud of you." Susan said to Cindy when she got home, kissing her softly in reward.

"I had a good teacher. But it wasn't that tough." Cindy replied, hugging Susan a bit.

"Maybe not, but you handled it well. Most of it was simply asking the right questions at the right time. The more you can do that way, the less likely you are to damage somebody." Susan said.

"Did you monitor later?" Cindy asked.

Susan shook her head. "Not much." she said.

"I did. Wooowee does that woman have the hots for you!" Cindy giggled.

"I picked up a sub-conscious desire for you too, my little minx." Susan noted.

"Well, that's understandable, cause I'm so lovable." Cindy giggled.

"Yes you are. And I'm not?" Susan teased.

"I didn't say that. That would be downright silly of me to do. You know how I feel." Cindy said.

"Yes, I know how you feel. But I'd like to remind myself in about twenty minutes, if you're willing?" Susan asked, alluringly.

"Gosh, better tie me up and drag me there kicking and screaming, cause otherwise ... I'll be there in five." Cindy giggled, kissing Susan's palm softly.

"I have a few things to wrap up. I'll meet you there in ten." Susan said, kissing her softly on the forehead.

Gale awoke before her alarm the next morning. The thoughts of the previous evening not conscious in her mind. But she felt good! She used the bathroom and then found herself doing sit-ups. Her eyes drifting back to the scrap book and the little pile of crap next to it. Comparing the two. She drove herself hard. Finally laying back, breathless. Her eyes upon the scrapbook.

She took a shower, examining herself in the mirror as she stepped out. She looked good! She dressed for work, first putting on lacy underwear. She put up her hair, then ... instead let it down and braided it. She added just a hint of a non-invasive perfume behind her ears, the back of her knees ... and ... lifting her dress ... rubbed some in her small trim tuft of pubic hair. Something she hadn't done in years.

Did she expect someone to be in the area? She wondered.

"You never know." she told herself, using the old justification she had used years before.

In times past, she had always done it, that way it was always there as a pleasant surprise attractant when someone was in the area.

She made her way to work and opened up the small diner. Getting things ready for the day. She sort of hummed to herself as she worked.

The fry-cook who worked mornings and lunches came in and stopped dead in his tracks as he headed for the back.

"You look nice today." he said.

"Thank you. I feel nice today." she said, smiling at him.

He was married, and she wasn't really attracted to him anyway, but the compliment made her feel good.

Their regular morning customers started to drift in and they went to work. For some reason, the customers seemed friendlier and left bigger tips. It never occurred to Gale that it was her that was different.

Without thinking, she sort of kept an eye on the door, like she was hoping that someone would come in. Each time it opened she'd swing her head around in anticipation.

The breakfast rush passed, she relaxed a bit, but cheerfully kept up her side work, usually a dreaded chore. The cook relaxed with a coke and sort of studied her.

"You get laid or something?" he asked.

She stopped and looked at him.

"Why, no. What made you ask that?" she asked.

"I don't know ... You just seem so damn cheerful today." he said.

She turned back to her work, blushing a bit. She wasn't about to tell him she had masturbated the night before and she damn sure wasn't going to tell him what she'd been thinking about when she'd done it!

"I don't know ... I just feel... happier today." she said.

"Well whatever it is, keep it up. You're a lot nicer to be around today." he said, returning to the kitchen.

So what did that mean? That she had been unpleasant to be around the other days? Wasn't that the first thing the young blonde woman had said to her? "Why so negative?"

She thought about it as she continued her side work. She had been ornery and bitchy, most the time lately. In fact, since...

A customer came in and the thought ended as she cheerfully waited on him. Soon, the lunch crowd poured in and she was lost in work again. But maintaining her cheerful attitude ... and watching the door.

The lunch rush passed and finally died. This was her slow time, then right after dinner again. She counted up her tips and divvied them up with the cook, something that she was usually loathsome to do, as it usually wasn't much. She had a set percentage that he got, which she always stuck to. But today she threw in even a bit more and still ended up with her best day for a long time. Even the till would show a higher ring later, even though they hadn't been any busier than usual. The cook thanked her gratefully, but baffled.

"Maybe it's that perfume you're wearing. You even smell good today." he said, on his way out.

She found herself blushing a bit. Enjoying the compliment. She bustled around filling sugar containers and such, keeping her eye on the door.

What was she waiting for? she asked herself.

A young blonde girl ... who had changed her life overnight. her subconscious answered.

That's ridiculous! she thought. But kept her eye towards the door.

She'd almost given up hope when she came in. At what was usually her slowest time.

She found herself smiling radiantly at the girl and saying "Hi It's good to see you again."

"That's much better! You look nice today." the girl said, smiling back, radiantly.

Gale found herself blushing like a school girl.

"I don't know... " she said, "I just feel... different today."

"Good. I like you better this way." the girl said, sliding into the same spot she had the night before.

Gale fought off her feelings and managed: "So ... what can I get you?"

"Gosh, I don't know. What's good?" the girl said, studying the menu.

"I'd stay away from the burgers and fries. But you look like you do anyway." Gale heard herself say.

"Thanks, that's nice ... Mmmm club sandwich? With fries?" the girl chuckled.

"Good choice. I make a killer club sandwich. I may just make myself one." Gale said.

"Why don't you and join me. My treat." said the girl.

"Oh, no! My turn. It's on me. I owe you one." Gale said.

"Thanks, you don't have to do that. I'm doing okay." the girl said.

"No, I want to. And I'd be pleased to join you ... if you'd really like me to." Gale said, sheepishly.

"Yes ... I'd like that very much." the girl said, softly.

"Great, what to drink?" Gale asked, almost excited.

"Mmm Ice tea, I think." the girl said, smiling at her.

"Great, with lemon?" Gale asked.

The girl giggled and nodded.

"Back in a jiffy." Gale said, heading for the kitchen.

Cindy watched her go.

"My when you turn around, you turn around! You're making me hot." Cindy thought to herself.

She thought about what Susan had said to her. She really hadn't done much, except ask a few pointed questions. She had visibly brightened someone's life as a result of that. She felt good about that. And it had been easy to do. She vowed to herself to do it lots, everywhere she went from now on.

The powers of perception had been a great joyous surprise to Cindy. All she'd really wanted was to be close to Susan, although she hadn't a clue what that had meant at the time. Susan had told her exactly what that meant, and in no uncertain terms before she had allowed it. By then Cindy was flat in love with her, in no uncertain terms. Then Susan had taken her to bed and her wildest dreams had paled by the experience. She hadn't even used any of the tools of the Sisterhood on her. Just, tender, loving, skill. Since then she'd had several men, and had thoroughly enjoyed them. She really enjoyed Ron. But it wasn't the same. Nothing was the same. Not even other women. Not even extremely talented other women, like Jane, Jill and Anne. She really enjoyed them, much more than the men, even Ron. She loved each and every one of them dearly ... but there was nothing like Susan.

Cindy found herself feeling that same sort of feeling about Gale. Which she found a bit odd and disturbing. Gale had been Susan's enemy ... Which should have instilled loathing in her. She remembered when Susan had asked her to tackle Gale with the intent of turning her life around.

"Why?" Cindy had asked, astonished.

"Because, my dear love. There is good and love in everybody. It is our sole purpose to expose that and nurture it." Susan had told her.

She had accepted her mentors edict. She would have tried no matter what she asked her to do. She adored her. She would do anything she bid her to do, happily.

She found herself pleasantly surprised by the task though. Gale did have good and love in her. She adored Susan too. She didn't hate her. Susan and Jill had simply become the icons for her dissatisfaction with herself when she had been guided by circumstance away from her own brilliance. And she was brilliant. Cindy had looked up past articles in the newspapers archives. Gale was a great writer. She had been until she had been forced to write crap. Cindy sort of shuddered over the power of a few words. She had monitored Gale until she fell asleep. She had done no directing. Gale had guided herself through the transition. Her few words had just been the catalyst.

She also clearly remembered the thought about the "young blonde". It was her! She found the thought more than just a little sexy.

Gale sort of hummed to herself as she expertly built the club sandwiches. Carefully selecting the best cuts of meat and other ingredients. She took pride as she carefully layered the fixings and made precise cuts on the wedges, putting hand selected colorful toothpicks in the wedges first.

"What am I doing?" she asked herself.

"Do I want to impress this girl? Why?" she continued.

Did it have anything to do with her thoughts as she had masturbated the night before? Did she want the girl? she wondered.

Suddenly her mind held an image of her on the deck with the young blonde, kissing her tenderly as Susan had kissed Barbara. She flushed and quivered inside.

Cindy found herself flushing and quivering as she monitored Gale's thoughts from the booth.

Gale was a little shaken, but she pushed her thoughts aside. "She just liked the girl." she told herself.

She set the plates on a tray and added the fries she had carefully cooked to a rich, golden brown, then drained them specially on a clean towel to remove all the extra fat. She had lightly salted them as she rolled them around to extract more fat.

She added two large Ice tea's with larger than normal lemon wedges along with the silverware and napkins, selecting the silverware that had no spots on them from washing. She carried the tray out to the table.

Cindy watched her approach. Sort of licking her lips absently. Gale was smiling broadly at her.

Cindy became aware of Gale's perfume as she set the table and laid out the food. Carefully arranging the silverware in the proper order. The thought of the perfume uncovered Gale's memory of how she had applied it that morning. Cindy found herself blushing brightly and felt a little damp between her legs. She shifted in her seat uncomfortably.

"What?" Gale asked, seeing her discomfort and fearing she had done something wrong.

"Oh nothing. I like your perfume." the girl said, examining her lunch.

"Thank you." Gale said, blushing a bit as she sat down.

"Gosh, I don't even know your name." Gale said, trying to look busy with the catsup bottle.

"Cindy, Cindy Townsend." Cindy said, extending her hand.

"Gale Howard." Gale said, shaking her hand.

The handshake lasted longer than either of them expected it to. Cindy feeling the rush of increased feelings that came with actual contact. She got lost for a moment in the magic of it. Gale, suddenly felt a strong sensual wave of sexual excitement over the warmth and texture of the girls skin ... and something else ... Like when she had shaken hands with Susan ... only this was different. This time she didn't feel the letdown of a foreshadowed unfulfillment. What she felt ... was mutual attraction.

"So nice to meet you, Gale." Cindy said, slowly withdrawing her hand.

"Very nice to meet you too, Cindy." Gale said, a little bit hoarse.

"This looks really nice." Cindy said, turning to her meal.

"Thank you. I take pride in my club sandwiches." Gale heard herself saying.

Cindy took a bite and smiled as she chewed. Gale beamed and started on her own.

"You should, it's good." Cindy said, after she swallowed.

Gale beamed at her: "Thanks." she said.

Cindy felt the approach of a couple in search of lunch. She wanted to continue the intimacy she was sharing with Gale in the otherwise empty place.

She thought one word: "Pizza!" toward the couple and they suddenly turned away. Changing their minds in mid stride, desperately wanting pizza. Cindy chided herself. She hadn't meant to make it that strong. The couple would probably want pizza for lunch for a week. Maybe dinner and breakfast too.

"You don't seem the waitress type. I mean ... you're good at it, but it doesn't seem you. What did you do before?" Cindy asked, returning her focus.

"I'm not, a waitress I mean. I mean, I guess I am ... and thank you ... but ... I was a journalist." Gale said, emphasizing the word with pride.

"Really? Yes. That seems more like you. I'll bet you were good at it too." Cindy said, between bites.

"Yes, Thanks. I was good at it, if I do say so." Gale said.

"Why'd you stop? What changed?" Cindy asked.

Gale looked at her plate a moment, frowning a bit.

"I guess I did." she said, softly, "The paper I worked for turned into a rag sheet. I ended up having to write sensationalist gossip. I think I hurt some pretty good people by what I wrote. I didn't like myself or my job much after that." she said, realizing the truth of her statement, all of it.

"Gosh, I can see why not. Why didn't you just change papers? I mean, there's other papers in town and I imagine that good journalists are hard to find." Cindy asked.

"Because I fooled myself into thinking I was still a journalist, doing what I was. Funny, I was on my last assignment. I was supposed to write a scathing exposé about ... someone's private life. I was trying to get the dirt on this lady. Nice lady, really. Anyway. I was supposedly there to get help on a history paper. But she somehow found out I was a reporter. She bought the paper I worked for. Turned out that I was really being interviewed for the editors position while I was trying to get the dirt on her. I blew it. I was so wrapped up in the farce I was involved with I threatened to write my story about her anyway. She rightfully fired me. I could have ended up with a dream position of editor at a real newspaper again. Cause she really did turn it around. You've probably seen it. City Cultural Life?" Gale asked.

"Yeah, I have. Good paper. I read it regularly." Cindy replied, quietly.

Gale's story had touched her.

"Yeah, so do I. Anyway, that's why I'm no longer a journalist." Gale concluded, sadly.

"Oh, I think you still are. You're just working as a waitress in the meantime." Cindy said, forcing herself to take a drink of tea.

Gale looked at her a bit. More than a bit touched by the sentiment herself.

"Oh, I don't know. I burned my bridges pretty good. I made a real fool of myself trying to sell my crap to the other papers in town. They rightfully turned me down too. You know, it's sad. Last night I was looking at my scrap book after I had talked to you ... Anyway, I got to reading my stuff. Most of it was pretty good stuff. Really good. Until I got to the crap where the paper changed. I found myself ripping out the crap. Ripping the pages right out of the book. I put them in a little pile and closed the book. Then pushed it away. It ended up next to the little pile. I suddenly realized that the book was a lot thicker than the little pile, even taking the covers into consideration. But that little pile of crap basically ruined my career." Gale said.

Gale didn't hear anything from the other side of the table. She looked up suddenly and found Cindy crying. Unsuccessfully fighting to hold back her tears.

"What's wrong?" Gale asked, getting misty eyed herself.

Cindy choked back her tears and forced herself to take a sip of tea. Gale waited, concerned.