EPILOGUE
Carla hadn’t seen Annabel for almost a year and found herself nervous at the prospect. She had changed outfits three times and kept checking herself out in the mirror, feeling uncharacteristically insecure.
Pull yourself together, she told herself. What had happened between them had been brief and fleeting, and it seemed like a very long time ago.
And then again, it felt like yesterday.
* * *
After the costume party and their encounter with Asha, they had spent three idyllic days doing almost nothing. Only once in that time, when they decided to go out for dinner, had they even gotten dressed. The rest of the time was spent lounging, reading, sunbathing, watching movies, and fucking.
The vibe between them continued to evolve. On the one hand Annabel had submitted to Carla completely; at the same time she had started asserting herself in small ways. For instance, one afternoon Carla was laying in bed, having smoked a joint and taken a little nap. She was just staring at the ceiling, feeling languidly content, when Annabel came into the room.
Their eyes met for a moment, and the next thing Carla knew Annabel was climbing up onto the bed, straddling her head, and lowering a dripping-wet pussy onto her face. Carla went with it, and as she extended her tongue to its full length she felt sure she was reaching places inside Annabel that were new to her. The taste was rich and musky and tingly on the tip of her tongue.
After a couple minutes Annabel leaned down to nestle her head between Carla’s legs. This was the first time they had been in 69 position with Annabel on top; Carla found herself enjoying it thoroughly, and the orgasms both of them had in that session were special.
Afterward Carla fell asleep again. When she woke up, the sun was low in the sky. Walking downstairs, she found Annabel in the kitchen, standing by the stove with a spatula in one hand, gloriously naked except for her collar. Framed in golden sunlight, she looked like a goddess, and Carla took a minute to just appreciate her. Then Annabel turned and smiled, and Carla felt a surge of emotion that she fought to stifle... because what good was it going to do her?
* * *
Thinking back now on those days, Carla realized they had been some of the best of her life.
* * *
On the fourth day they awoke to the news that Carla’s father was planning to return to L.A. and to stay there for the rest of the summer.
Panic ensued.
They considered running away somewhere together. But both of them knew that wasn’t really a solution. They couldn’t live that way indefinitely; sooner or later they were going to have to face reality.
Carla could feel in the pit of her stomach that the fun was over. This was only confirmed when, just a few hours later, Annabel got the news that her mother was sick for real and her father desperately needed help.
For a short moment Carla thought about going with her, but she quickly realized that wouldn’t work. For one thing, what would she do in Minnesota while Annabel was with her family? And also, sooner or later her father would find out where she was, and that would be hard to explain. No, the message from the universe was clear.
A few hours later they were on the way to the airport. They were both quiet on the drive; all of sudden there didn’t seem to be much to say.
At the airport there was a long, tender hug followed by a kiss that might have gone on indefinitely, except Carla had double-parked and a loud honk reminded her that she was blocking someone in. She and Annabel shared a last look full of complicated shades of emotion, and that was that.
Carla fought tears all the way home, listening to loud music and pounding on the dashboard. What was the point of crying over what was, in the end, just another affair? Sure it had been been cut short suddenly, but they were going to get to this point eventually anyway.
Back at the house she quickly packed up the car and headed to San Francisco. After a week there she went to New York, then London, then Paris. She had a good time but it all felt a bit hollow somehow. It was almost a relief when mid-August arrived and it was time to head back to school for her senior year.
Every day she thought about texting Annabel, but somehow she just couldn’t do it. Before long the whole thing seemed like some nice dream she’d had.
This state of affairs continued into the school year, where Carla threw herself into her studies with a new passion. Despite her intelligence she had never been a great student, but now she decided she was going to do her absolute best.
She still slept around a bit, but never with the same girl more than once, and it never meant much to her. Mostly she thought about her future, though she still wasn’t quite sure what she was going to do with it.
Occasionally she got second-hand reports of what was happening back home. She was pleased to learn that Annabel had in fact hired a lawyer and was divorcing her father. Talking to her father’s lawyer, who she was friendly with, Carla learned that Annabel hadn’t asked for as much as she could have gotten. Her dad had been happy to accept the deal.
Only after graduation — which Carla’s father attended; they were getting along better now — did she decide it was time to contact Annabel. She was heading back to L.A. soon and found herself dying of curiosity about what Annabel’s life was like now. She would only have a few days there before heading off on a long trip to Australia and New Zealand.
The few texts they had exchanged to arrange a meeting had been completely businesslike, with no hint that they were anything other than acquaintances looking to catch up.
* * *
Annabel was living over the yoga studio in Santa Monica, and they’d arranged to meet at her apartment. There was no answer when Carla knocked, but then she heard footsteps behind her, and turned to see Annabel looking flushed, a little harried... and unspeakably beautiful.
She was just coming from a class, she explained as she let them into the apartment. She was studying to become a yoga instructor. And immediately Carla sensed a change in her; there was a confidence that hadn’t been there before.
But there was also a nervous energy in her demeanor. She too had been anxious about this meeting — Carla had been the catalyst for the changes that had happened in her life in the last year, but what connected them now? She found herself chattering mindlessly about the weather as she took Carla to the kitchen and got them both kombuchas from the fridge.
Carla, for her part, was hardly hearing what Annabel was saying. Her former stepmother was somehow blonder, fitter, and tanner than before, and it was absolutely hypnotic to watch her move in her red halter top and sheer, ultratight yoga pants. As she stared into those blue eyes, trying her damnedest to focus on what Annabel was saying, Carla felt her motor revving in a way that it hadn’t since... well, since the last time they’d been together.
She had a strong impulse to jump Annabel’s bones then and there. And Annabel, being a natural submissive, probably would have gone along with it. But that would open up a whole can of worms, and where would it lead? Annabel had a new life now and Carla was just starting hers. So she gritted her teeth and willed herself to behave.
They decided to walk down the street for sushi, and Annabel excused herself to change. Knowing that she might be naked in the next room made Carla suddenly feel like it was 150 degrees in there; she walked to the other end of the apartment and stuck her head out an open window, gazing down at the street below. It was weirdly quiet down there; a dog barked somewhere in the distance.
A few minutes later Annabel appeared in a striped sundress that was less revealing than the yoga clothes, but flattered her curves in a way that made Carla ache. She could feel eyes on them as they walked down the street, and though she knew she looked good in her white blouse and black midi, it was obvious who was drawing the attention.
Over dinner they kept to innocuous topics, sipping white wine, both of them afraid to bring up anything that might make it awkward. The waitress was very flirty, especially with Annabel, and Carla found herself getting a little jealous. She wondered if Annabel was fucking anybody. Picturing Annabel with Dylan, she felt like steam was coming out of her ears.
Carla found it hard to meet Annabel’s eyes as they talked. Every time she gazed into those blue orbs, she felt like she was going to fall in and never get out. And she didn’t want to get caught.
Finally they left the restaurant and walked slowly and a little tipsily back toward the studio. At the door Annabel asked Carla up for coffee, and for a long beat she thought about it. But she knew she shouldn’t. If she didn’t walk away now, she might not be able to.
Shaking her head, Carla murmured “I’d better get going,” and gave Annabel a hug. Feeling those warm breasts against her, smelling Annabel’s familiar smell, Carla went weak in the knees for a moment. But she quickly steeled herself and pulled away, turning quickly to avoid looking Annabel in the eyes. “Bye,” she said in a husky voice, and Annabel answered in kind.
Carla’s first few strides were long and decisive. Each one after that was a little less so, until finally halfway down the block she came to a complete stop. She turned and saw Annabel waiting for her in the doorway.
