Half a dozen people were clogging the gallery's entrance when I arrived. I squeezed past a bearded man and a woman in a salmon-colored minidress. Someone from the gallery's staff approached me to take my coat, but I shook my head. I didn't want to wait around later for someone to hand me the coat once it was time to leave, so I slipped out of my coat, folded it, and carried it over my arm.
I declined a glass of champagne and craned my neck, looking for my mother. Finally, I discovered her in front of one of her paintings, where she was explaining some details to a visitor.
I walked over and waited for my mother to look up.
"Darling! How nice that you could make it." Despite my protests, my mother pressed a glass of champagne into my hands.
I placed it on the tray of a nearby waitress. "The art opening looks like a big success."
"Yes, it is. I've sold two paintings already." My mother beamed. She took a step back and studied me. "You're wearing a dress?"
For a moment, I debated letting my mother think it was in honor of the art opening, but then I said, "I've got a date later tonight."
My mother led me through the gallery and stopped in front of a painting. She glanced at me, then back at her colleague's creation. "A date with...?" She trailed off and let me complete the sentence.
It had been a week since Thanksgiving. Even though we had spoken on the phone twice, this was the first time my mother had asked about my new relationship in any way.
I inhaled deeply before I let the breath escape.
"With Lisa, yes." In fact, it was our first official date, and just thinking about it made butterflies the size of sparrows take flight in my belly. "I'm not dating anyone else. Lisa says hi, by the way. She's sorry she can't make it. She wanted to come with me, but she needs to cover the tasting room until seven."
Silence settled between us as we wandered from painting to painting, looking at each of them for a minute or two.
"Does she make you happy?" my mother asked after a while.
The question caught me by surprise. I stared at my mother. As far as I could remember, my mother had never asked me a question like that. For a moment, I thought about just giving the shortest possible answer. In the past, my parents had always been satisfied with that because their interest in my life ran only skin-deep—at least it always seemed so. But if I wanted to give my parents a chance to participate in my life more fully, I had to open up and show them the kind of communication I wanted.
"I've never relied on anyone for my happiness." I strolled to the next painting and thought about my words. "But I think I'm finally learning to. Lisa shows me every day that I can trust her to be there for me, no matter what."
My mother nodded and followed me. For a few moments, silence settled between us, then my mother asked, "What do you think of that one?"
I suppressed a sigh. It seemed my mother's attempt to connect and really talk to each other was over already. I turned my head to look at the painting my mother was indicating.
On the canvas, fog swirled through a dark pine forest. "It's kind of depressing." The painting didn't fit my mood at all. Depressed was the last thing I was feeling. Excited to see Lisa later, nervous about our first official date, yes, but not depressed. I shrugged. "But I'm not an expert. Art is your passion, Mom, not mine."
We turned a corner to the next artworks.
I stumbled to a stop and stared at a painting of a beach.
The setting sun seemed to float on the ocean, dipping it in orange. Waves sprayed rocks that jutted into the water and rained down on a group of sunbathing seals. Their fur gleamed like bronze.
In the painting's foreground, a couple knelt on a blanket that covered the tiny pebbles. The glowing light of the sunset surrounded them like a halo and made their features unrecognizable, their shapes revealed that both were women. The smaller, stockier one had one arm stretched out, offering something in her hand. The other woman's fingertips were about to touch whatever rested on her companion's palm.
This is us, Lisa and me! I shook my dazed head. God, what are the chances? My gaze darted to the painting's title: Heart's Offering. I swallowed. Could it really be? I stepped even closer.
The pebbles instead of sand, the build of the two women, the blanket in front of a piece of driftwood ... the painting's details fit too well for it to show any other couple.
That day on the beach, Lisa had given me the moonstone, not her heart. Still, the artist had apparently sensed some sort of romantic connection between us.
If I was honest with myself, I had sensed it too, but I had blamed it on the setting, on our plan to trick Jin, on anything but my growing feelings.
Not anymore.
I turned to my mother. "Heart's Offering. Who painted it?"
My mother stepped closer and glanced at the initials in the corner of the painting. "That's one of Bridget's. She's around here somewhere."
I scanned the crowd of artists and visitors wandering the gallery. "Can you point her out to me? I want to buy her painting."
"I thought you don't care about art," my mother said.
"I care about this painting." I replied.
"If you like the seascape, I can give you one of mine that—"
"No, Mom," I said before my mother could go into a detailed description of her own painting. "I don't want just any seascape painting. This one is special." I couldn't keep my gaze off the seascape. The artist had captured the magic of that moment so well. I reached into my coat pocket to touch the moonstone.
It wasn't there.
My mouth went dry. I searched my other pocket. Nothing.
With trembling fingers, I rifled through my purse. A lump formed in my throat.
The moonstone was gone.
Oh, God, no. Had I lost it when I had taken off the coat?
"Special?" My mother interrupted my panicked thoughts. She still studied the painting through narrowed eyes. "What's so special about Bridget's painting that you would prefer it over one of mine?"
Christ, now her artist's ego is hurt. Why did my mother have to make everything about herself? I lifted my hand, interrupting my mother's lecture about the quality of the brushwork and color choice.
"It's not about artistic value. This is personal." I looked at the painting again and fought the urge to run my finger over the smaller figure. "I think it's a painting of Lisa and me."
A chuckle escaped my mother. "And here I always thought you didn't have any imagination."
Ouch. I should have known that my mother wouldn't change completely overnight. "No, Mom, really. When we were at the beach three weeks ago, there was a woman with an easel." I pointed at the painting. "That's us."
My mother took her glasses from her purse and put them on. She bent and looked at the painting again. "Are you sure?"
I nodded. I remembered every detail of that day at the beach vividly.
"But I thought you haven't been ... you know ..." My mother gestured wildly and finally left it up to me to fill in the blanks. "... for long?"
Haven't been in love? Haven't been a couple? Haven't been sleeping with Lisa? I hadn't yet, but that was none of my mother's business. "We just admitted our feelings to each other on Thanksgiving, but they've been there for quite some time," I said. "Now can you please get Bridget for me? I have to leave in twenty minutes, or I'll be late for my date."
My mother sighed. "I'll get her."
* * *
Dating had never been comfortable for me, but now as the hostess led me to the table, I felt like throwing up. The clinking of cutlery against plates and the low hum of conversations sounded overly loud. I felt the gazes of the other restaurant guests like pinpricks on my skin, but when I glanced at the diners, no one was looking my way.
Then I caught sight of Lisa, who was already seated at the table. Lisa glanced up.
Our gazes met.
For a moment, the noises in the restaurant receded and everything seemed to move in slow motion.
With a bright smile, Lisa stood and approached me.
A pair of dark gray slacks clung to her rounded hips and muscular thighs. A baby-blue blouse, its sleeves rolled up, contrasted nicely with her tan. My gaze was drawn to the bit of smooth skin that the two open buttons on Lisa's blouse revealed. I swallowed.
Lisa looked as if she had dressed with care; yet with her rolled up sleeves and open buttons, she still seemed entirely comfortable in her own skin.
In contrast, I felt like a child playing at being grown-up in my burgundy dress.
"Hi," Lisa said. Her raspy voice sent shivers down my spine. "You look beautiful."
I smoothed my hands down the sides of my dress, very aware that the hostess was still within earshot. "Thank you. I went back and got the dress."
"I'm glad you did. It looks wonderful on you." Lisa took another step closer and reached for me.
My heart leaped. Will she kiss me in front of all the other customers?
But instead, Lisa hugged me.
I put my arms around Lisa's back, at the same time relieved and disappointed that she hadn't kissed me. I mentally shook my head and chided myself for my foolish thoughts.
Lisa held on longer than the polite two seconds that I was used to. Instead of just touching my shoulders, Lisa pressed her whole torso against me in a full-body hug.
Conscious of the people surrounding us, I struggled not to pull away before Lisa ended the hug. After a moment, I just relaxed and enjoyed the warm, solid feel of Lisa's body against mine. It felt new and exciting, yet at the same time soothingly familiar.
Finally, Lisa let go and I stumbled to my chair on wobbly legs. "Are you okay?" Lisa asked, leaning forward to look at me with a concerned gaze.
"I'm fine. How was work? Was the tasting room busy today?"
"We got a lot of folks looking for the right wine for Christmas," Lisa said. "And how was the art opening?"
I thought of the painting in my trunk. I wanted to tell her then and there what I had found, but I bit my tongue. The painting would make a nice Christmas present for Lisa.
"It was more interesting than I thought." I answered.
"I'm really sorry I missed it." Lisa grinned. "I need to find another way to earn brownie points with your mother."
"You earned brownie points with me by being here extra-early even though I know you had a busy day," I said.
"I didn't want to make you wait like the last time."
The last time. So much had changed since the last time we had dinner here two months before. We had gone from hesitant allies in a plot against Jin to being friends and now potential lovers so fast that my head was spinning.
The ordering of the food and wine rushed by in a nervous daze.
Calm down and just enjoy the evening. But that was easier said than done. I reached for my pocket to touch the moonstone, a gesture I found calming, and then remembered that my dress didn't have any pockets—and that the moonstone was gone. I tugged on my bottom lip with my teeth.
"What is it?" Lisa asked. The candle in the middle of the table threw flickering shadows over her face as she leaned forward and regarded me closely. "What's wrong?"
I felt like a woman who had lost her lover's fifty-thousand-dollar diamond ring. "Lisa, I ... There's something I've got to tell you."
Lisa blanched beneath her tan. She sank against the back of her chair. "You changed your mind."
"What?" I stared at her.
"About me. About us." she replied.
"Oh. You thought ...? No, no, no. That's not what this is all about." I leaned forward and touched Lisa's hand that was clamped around her wineglass. It was strangely encouraging to see that I wasn't the only one feeling insecure when it came to our relationship. "No negative assumptions, remember?"
"Yeah." Lisa loosened her death grip on the wineglass. "I remember." A tiny smile brought out her dimples.
Instantly, I wanted to make her smile again, but instead, I had to give her some bad news. I inhaled and held the breath for as long as I could before I blurted out, "I think I lost the moonstone."
"Oh."
"I'm so sorry. I don't know how it happened. I swear I—"
"Jennie, stop." Lisa reached across the table and touched my cheek. "On the way to the restaurant, I stopped to pick up your Christmas present."
What did that have to do with anything? Was Lisa trying to cheer me up? I tilted my head and waited for Lisa to continue.
"I think you should have it now, though," Lisa said. She fumbled for something in her pocket. Her eyes shone, and a flush covered her cheeks.
I had to smile. She's so cute. My smile froze when Lisa pushed a jewelry box across the table. My heartbeat thundered through my ears, and I wasn't sure whether I was scared that it might be a ring or afraid that it wasn't. It's too soon, isn't it? With trembling fingers, I took the little box and opened it.
Before me lay a silver necklace. A milky-white stone pendant gleamed against the dark velvet of the jewelry box.
Phew. I exhaled sharply. Not a ring.
I squinted and looked more closely. "Isn't that a moonstone?" I looked at Lisa.
Lisa grinned and nodded. "Not just any moonstone. That's yours. Ours. I took it from your coat pocket when you weren't paying attention. I'm sorry I made you think you might have lost it. I didn't think you would notice it was gone this soon."
I rubbed my thumb over its shining surface and exhaled slowly. The thought of having lost the moonstone had plagued me all evening.
"I hope it's okay that I had the jeweler cut and polish it," Lisa said. "I know you don't like sentimental trinkets like this, but ..." She shrugged and trailed off, looking at me with a hopeful expression.
Three months ago, I would have thought it a childish superstition and a waste of money to put a simple stone from a beach on a necklace. Now the moonstone represented hope, love, and a more positive way of thinking.
"Of course it's okay." I smiled at Lisa. "I love it. I'm finding I like sentimental these days." I took the necklace from the box and looked at the dangling pendant for a moment before Ilifted it to mt neck.
"Let me do it," Lisa said. She got up and rounded the table. Her fingers brushed feather-light against my skin as she closed the necklace's catch, making goose bumps trail down my body. "There." With one gentle finger, Lisa touched the moonstone resting on my chest.
Even though Lisa wasn't touching me directly, I felt heat flow through me. I coughed against the sudden lump of emotion in my throat. "I've got something for you too." I had wanted to give Lisa the painting for Christmas, but now I could hardly wait to see Lisa's face when she saw it. "It's in the trunk of my car, though, so it'll have to wait until later."
"Some things are worth waiting for," Lisa said and smiled.
I didn't know what to say to that. My mouth was too dry to speak. Suddenly everything we said and did seemed to be filled with so much emotion that I barely knew how to handle it. When the waiter set down the broccoli pasta dish in front of me, I picked at my food and searched for something to say. Whenever we had dinner together before, the conversation between us had flowed, but now I was left speechless.
The feeling that the other people in the restaurant were watching us didn't help. In the past, I had enjoyed the anonymity in public places like this. On all of my other dates, I had been just one of many diners, not standing out from the masses at all. No one had paid me any special attention, and that was how I preferred it. Now the feeling that all the other people knew something very private about me, just by looking at me and Lisa, made my skin crawl.
"Let's get these to go and head to my place," Lisa said.
I looked up, startled. "Go to your place? Why?"
"Because you're not comfortable here."
"No, I—"
"Jennie," Lisa reached across the table and took my hand, "please don't do that with me. Don't pretend to be fine when you're not."
I stared at Lisa's hand on top of mine. The touch was soothing yet at the same time uncomfortable. I inhaled deeply and forced myself not to pull away. Lisa deserved to know. She would understand. At least I hoped so.
"This," I nodded down at our hands, "is hard for me."
When Lisa started to pull back her hand, I trapped it against mine with my left hand. "It's fine. I just need to get over my paranoia. I'm sure most people here don't notice or don't mind that we're two women holding hands." Maybe if I told myself that a few more times, I would start to believe it.
A sad smile flitted across Lisa's face. "I won't lie to you. Most people really don't care, but there are a few homophobic jerks. We might get some stares when we're holding hands. If it would make you more comfortable, we could cut out the affectionate touches in public." Lisa looked at me, clearly ready to accept whatever I decided.
I studied our hands before I let my gaze stray through the restaurant. A man at one of the other tables was staring at us from behind the cover of his menu. The muscles in my hand jerked as I suppressed the reflex to withdraw my fingers from Lisa's. Yes, it would be easier to avoid all overly affectionate touches while in public. If I just sat here, enjoying dinner and pleasant conversation with Lisa, no one would think we were anything but friends.
But I knew it was the coward's way out and wouldn't be fair to either me or Lisa. If I wanted our relationship to work, I needed to stand up for myself and not let my life be dictated by the expectations of strangers.
"No," I said. "That's not what I want. Just give me some time to get used to it, okay?"
"Okay," Lisa said with an understanding smile. She squeezed my hand and started to pull back when someone stopped next to our table.
I looked up, expecting to see the waiter.
Instead, Lisa's friend Nikki stood in front of us. "Hi, Lisa. I thought that was you." She bent to kiss Lisa's cheek.
The kiss lasted a bit too long for my taste. I found myself glaring at Nikki's hand on Lisa's shoulder. The possessiveness of that gesture made me want to rip off Nikki's hand.
When Nikki straightened, her gaze fell on me and Lisa's still joined hands. She glanced around the restaurant before she grinned at me and bent to whisper, "Still trying to trick your brother?"
Lisa and I exchanged a glance, then Lisa gave me a nod, leaving it up to me to decide on what to tell Nikki.
I hesitated. Pretending not to care about what strangers might think was one thing, but facing Lisa's friends was another. I gave myself a mental kick. "No," I said, forcing myself to meet Nikki's gaze. "This doesn't have anything to do with tricking Jin. Lisa and I ... we're ... together."
"Woohoo!" Nikki slapped Lisa's shoulder. "So you finally earned that toaster oven?"
At Nikki's loud cheering, the people at the neighboring tables looked over at us. One of the waiters stopped in the middle of pouring wine and stared too.
Nikki grinned at me as if I were just one in a long row of Lisa's conquests.
I couldn't stand that grin any longer. I let go of Lisa's hand and pushed away my plate. Instead of jumping up as I wanted to, I mumbled, "Excuse me," got up with as much dignity as possible—which wasn't much under the circumstances—and fled to the ladies' room. Maybe if I hid out there for long enough, Nikki would just disappear.