Leala Linney Chapter 1
Leala Linney came to me after a conversation about the lack of representation of older women finding new love.
It is unedited.
Leala taps the steering wheel to the Melissa Etheridge song that's been in her head all morning, willing the stoplight to turn to green. Thanks to a hot flash hitting her over her morning coffee, the shower she had to take threw her late. She wasn’t planning on a shower this morning. It made her skin too dry so she tried to spread them out as long as possible. But this morning’s blazing inferno left her hair damp and made a mess of the cute top she planned to wear. So, into the shower she went, humming "Bring Me Some Water" and belting the chorus into the lukewarm spray. It took a little extra time to slather her favorite scented lotion everywhere she could reach. The smell reminds her of the creamsicle ice cream she enjoyed as a kid. She shrugs. Becky doesn't mind waiting.
Finally she pulls into the parking lot of their favorite thrift store. Proceeds support various groups she and Becky love, on a monthly rotation, the local PFLAG, a non-profit cat spay-and-neuter operation based in the area, and a shelter for LGBTQIA+ youth in trouble. All those great causes attract a certain kind of donor, and shopper. That means the huge space is usually full of all sorts of treasures and interesting people.
She spies Becky as she pulls into a spot. Her best friend since high school is in her usual tight jeans and a designer t-shirt tucked into the front. Queer Eye's Tan France would be so proud. Today's shirt is a pretty pink and green paisley with white accents around the collar and the cuffs of her sleeves. Her sneakers are pristine white. Leala makes a noise getting out of the car and hastily looks around to see if anyone heard. Since no one is looking at her, she relaxes. But still. Why must she keep doing that? She never used to make noises when she stood up or sat down.
“You look like twelve miles of bad road.”
“The saying is ten miles, Becky. And good morning to you, Miss Sunshine.”
Becky laughs. “I know it’s ten miles, but you look a little worse than usual, hon. I’ve got three words for you, hormone replacement therapy.”
Leala laughs. “It’s a good thing I’ve already had my coffee or I might take offense to that.” She kisses Becky’s cheek. “And thanks. I love you too.” They laugh and step into the store with their arms linked. Leala can’t help her smile. Just walking into the bright and cheerful thrift store lifts her spirits. Round racks dominate the renovated warehouse. Each rack is organized by item and size, then further grouped on the racks by color. So a rack of short-sleeved shirts sizes XS, S, and M are on one rack, shirts in each of the three sizes arranged by color. White and black items have their own racks, respectively, and they’re dotted here and there around the store. The effect always made her imagine it would be colorful polka dots seen from high above.
Eyes sparkling, Becky says, “Look out 25 cent bargains, here comes Mama.”
Leala giggles “You’re so tight-fisted your quarters are bent. You seriously think you can part with any?”
“If you must know, my wife gave me shopping money today.”
Leala laughs out loud. “Oh, boy does she know you well!”
They bee-line for the plus-size dress rack. For a few seconds the only sound they make is the scrape of plastic hangers on a metal bar as they each sort through the stock. Becky pauses and pulls one out. She steps close to Leala and holds it up to herself.
“What do you think? Good color for me?”
Leala tilts her head back a little to let her bifocals help her focus in on her friend. “Oh, that’s cute. Yeah. That shade of brown really makes your blue eyes pop. You have to try it on.”
Becky grins and turns back to sorting. “I call first blood!”
“No way. It doesn’t count until you buy it, you fool.”
“It counts if I say so.”
The sassy way Becky rocks her head back and forth makes her gold and silver earrings swing, catching Leala’s eye. Something about the filigree design looks really familiar. “Nice earrings by the way. I have a pair just like those.”
“Try exactly like these,” Becky mutters.
Leala looks at her. “What was that?”
“Oh nothing. Hey that’s a cute dress you have in your hand. It’ll go great with your turquoise beads, don’t you think?”
Leala squints at her. “Don’t change the subject on me. I heard what you said. Did you swipe my earrings again?”
Becky widens her eyes and blinks at her. “What are you saying?”
“Rotten thief is what I’m saying. That’s the last time I let your sticky fingers into my bedroom.”
Becky starts giggling. “Honey you better let somebody’s fingers into your bedroom or you’re gonna shrivel up like an old prune.”
Leala slaps her shoulder and shushes her, but she starts laughing, too. “Ooo don’t make me laugh,” she sputters. “I’m gonna pee!”
Becky only laughs harder. It takes them both a minute to gather themselves. When Becky catches her breath she asks in all seriousness, and way too loudly for Leala’s taste, “You do your kegels, don’t you? Honey, you gotta keep yourself in shape! You never know when you might get another lover. You don’t want to be all loose and flabby down there.”
Leala’s face heats. She scolds Becky in a stage whisper, “Just tell God and everybody that I’m single, why don’t you? And loose and flabby comes with the territory, my friend.” She holds up Becky’s left arm and pushes up the short sleeve of her t-shirt. Leala tugs on the underside of Becky’s upper arm. “This thing looks like an albino elephant’s trunk – that’s gravity, my friend.”
Leala loses her grip on Becky’s arm when her friend doubles over shrieking with laughter. “Elephant!...albino!...you’re killin’ me!...”
Rolling her eyes, Leala looks around to see if they’ve attracted anyone’s attention. The music is pretty loud, so she doubts anyone heard. And she doesn’t spot any people standing around pointing fingers at the lovely goofball and her lonely sidekick. But her eyes snag on a person standing not too far away, in front of a rack of men’s slacks. Their back is to Leala, and what a back it is. The tight black t-shirt barely contains those broad shoulders and a muscular back Leala would love to scrape her nails down. Not too tall, not too short. Not too young, either judging by the salt and pepper hair, heavy on the salt, neatly cut in a high and tight. Oh, wow. Please. If there is a god in heaven, let that be a lesbian. Please.
She jumps when Becky says in her ear, “Close your mouth, honey, you’re drooling. But oh my. I can’t blame you a bit. Yummy. Too bad I’m taken.”
“Oh, for—I am not drooling. Shush.” Something about Hot Back’s stance makes Leala think the stranger heard them somehow. Her face grows hot and she spins away and starts automatically sorting through the dresses again. All of her attention is on the person across the room. It’s all she can do not to turn around and look. Instead, she enlists Becky’s help. “Are they looking?” she whispers.
Becky joins her. “If you’re asking if that fiiine human being has turned around, the answer is no. Unfortunately. I tell you what, no wonder you were drooling. If the front side is anything like that backside promises…I better not finish that. I am a married woman after all.”
Since Leala can’t slap herself to focus, she slaps Becky’s shoulder instead. “Focus, Becky. We’re here to shop, not pick anyone up.” No matter how just looking at their back in a dang t-shirt has made me want to jump their bones.
Becky rubs her shoulder, her eyes twinkling with humor. “Aw, why not? I mean, if you have the hots for – Ow!” Becky laughs. “Here, I’ll prove they can’t hear me, it’ll be fine, just watch, watch.” Grinning from ear to ear, she pitches her voice a little above normal and says, “Oh, hey person over there, my friend thinks you’re cute and would really love to—Ouch!” and she dissolves into giggles. “Okay, okay. You made your point. Quit hitting me already,” she shakes her head, still giggling. “Fine, Hopeless, if you won’t march over there, I’m ready to try these dresses on. Coming?” Becky leads the way, tossing over her shoulder, “Scaredy cat.”
Hot with embarrassment, Leala follows her. Still, she can’t help but chide. “Well, which am I? Hopeless or Scaredy Cat?”
“Obviously you’re a hopeless scaredy cat.”
“Oh, yeah? Well, takes one to know one.”
“Ohmygod. You are such a child.”
Leala grins, “Am not.”
Becky shakes her head. “Are too.”
“Not.”
“Too.”
They both dissolve in giggles, bumping their plump hips to punctuate each taunt. By the time they reach the far side of the warehouse, they’re leaning against one another for support and Leala’s stomach aches from laughing.
Once in the fitting area, they head for the back. Becky darts into a room and disappears behind the curtain. Leala finds the room beside her empty and claims it for herself.
Through the wall, Becky asks, “So what’s wrong?”
The way her voice wavers, Leala can almost see her friend wriggling out of her jeans. Leala grimaces at her reflection in the mirror. “I’m tired, Becky. I’m just tired.”
“You aren’t sleeping well?”
“Oh, I’m sleeping okay. Right up until I have to get up to pee around 3 am, and then I can’t get back to sleep for the life of me.” Leala gapes at her reflection. She tugs at the neckline but it won’t budge. Oh, boy. Hello there girls.
“Ugh, I’m sorry.”
Leala stops doing the shimmy at the mirror and puts her hands on her hips, starting at the wall separating her from her friend. “Are you trying to tell me you never have to get up to pee in the middle of the night?”
Becky laughs. “No, I’m saying it isn’t a problem for me like it is for you. Come out here and tell me what you think of this dress. I can’t decide.”
Leala studies Becky while she turns around in a circle. “So, what? You fall right back to sleep? I like that dress on you. What don’t you like?”
Becky stands with her back to the full length mirror in the hall and cranes her head around to see her reflection. “It doesn’t give me gone-ass? Oh, you know. I snuggle in with my wife and usually go right back to sleep. Sometimes she treats me to a little help.”
Someone in another room chuckles. “Gone-ass? How does she help—oh. Oh.” Leala feels her face get hot. “Right. Okay. Lucky you! Well not all of us have someone who will, well, help to put us to sleep.” She tugs at the neckline again.
Becky laughs. “That’s one way to put it! Quit tugging at that. Your cleavage is delicious. You should let it show more.”
“You done laughing at me, yet?”
Becky chuckles. “Maybe. You done being a prude?”
Leala sticks her tongue out at Becky. “Maybe. I mean, we are in public.” She steps closer to the mirror and pulls at the fabric here and there. It is a flattering dress and fits her perfectly. She just wishes the vee didn’t dip quite so low. “I dunno Becky. Are you sure this isn’t too...much?”
“That's a definite negative, ma’am. I most definitely would not call that too much. In fact, I think that’s just right.”
She spins around in shock because the speaker isn’t Becky. It’s Hot Back. And the front of her is just as yummy. She catches sight of Becky waggling her fingers goodbye, just before she disappears back into her dressing room. Abruptly Leala snaps her gaping mouth shut. Then her eyes are snared by the stranger’s brown eyes. The unblinking stare seems to be looking into her soul. Leala's breath quickens. It's been a long time since someone looked at her with any heat. But no one has ever looked at her with that kind of single-minded intensity. She could swear she sees gold roll over those deep brown eyes. She shivers. In quick succession she thinks, This must be what it’s like to be prey in a hunter’s sight and Who the hell are you?