Page 30 of This Is Who I Am
CASS
On the one-month anniversary of our unforgettable burgers-at-The-Bay date, I make Estelle a cake and put one candle in her piece.
She purses her lips and looks as though she’s thinking hard.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “But I don’t know what it’s for.
I hope that doesn’t make me a bad girlfriend.
” It’s the first time she refers to herself as my girlfriend and I’m dizzy with happiness—although the dizziness could also be the aftermath of the atrociously bad night’s sleep I had.
“You’re the best girlfriend ever,” I say, not caring one bit how teenager-like that sounds. “Exactly one month and two days ago we went on our date to The Bay. Remember, when I said sex was off the table and you proceeded to seduce me with how ridiculously sensually you devoured that burger?”
Estelle chuckles. “I will never forget.”
“I waited to make you the cake until we could properly celebrate.” I’ve never been happier with my choice of running a slow restaurant, because it means I have plenty of time to date.
To get to know Estelle better day by glorious day.
Sex is certainly on the table, but not all the time—not like when Sarah and I just got together.
“I’m sorry I forgot.” Estelle makes a spectacle of blowing out the candle.
“Oh, I know that mathematicians are notoriously bad with numbers.”
“Numbers are not dates,” Estelle says, her voice too damn sexy again. “But come here.” She pushes her chair away from the table. “Let me make it up to you.”
I clumsily straddle her on the chair—falling in love hasn’t miraculously transformed my body into a slight, petite shape—and kiss her.
God, I kiss her. I can’t get enough of kissing Estelle.
Sometimes it turns into more, sometimes it doesn’t.
Usually, I let her take the lead. My libido might have come roaring back to life, but I’m still a fifty-three-year-old woman with hot flashes and a restaurant to run.
No matter how sexy Estelle is, I don’t want to jump her bones all the time.
But, from time to time, I do ache for how she can make me feel—like a hot-blooded woman she can’t keep her hands off.
It’s Saturday evening and I definitely want her to stay—and more.
We kiss more, until my half-sitting half-hovering position becomes too uncomfortable. I rise and hold out my hand. She takes it and I let her guide me into my bedroom.
We undress—me fully, Estelle keeping her shorts on—and roll onto bed and tonight she treats me to a special combination of tongue, fingers and lube and the orgasm is so obliterating it zaps all of my brain power.
I lie panting in her arms and, not for the first time, I can only think of one thing.
I want her. I want to make her feel like this.
Something feels incomplete—bordering on inadequateness on my part, even though I know it’s not me.
But there’s a gap between knowing something intellectually and feeling something in your gut, especially when the intellectual part of your brain has been incapacitated by a mind-numbing climax.
I turn on my side and look into her eyes. I curl my arm around her waist, making sure my fingers don’t dip too low.
“I want you so much, Estelle,” I whisper. “You have no idea.”
“You just had me.” She smiles that ridiculously sexy smile of hers and it’s almost enough.
“I want you .”
“Cass. No,” she says, her voice soft, almost pleading.
My fingertips dig into her waist a fraction. “God, I want to touch you.”
She doesn’t reply, just stares at me in silence, then swallows something out of her throat. “I need you to stop,” she says, after a while. “You know why.” Her voice is much sharper, snapping me out of my stupor.
“Oh, fuck.” I pull back my hand, as though I shouldn’t be touching her anywhere any longer. “I’m sorry. That was… not okay.”
“I get it.” There’s a distinct note of sadness in her voice. “I really do, but I need you to get used to this, because I can never give you that.”
“I know. God, I know. I was in…”
“It’s okay.” She brings her palm to my cheek. “It happens. It’s only human for you to, um, want me like that, but…”
It might be human, but it makes me feel like a bad person nonetheless.
On top of that, I might have spoken in the heat of the moment, but now that I’m having sex again, I really miss the giving part.
I miss making my partner come. I miss being inside them.
I miss what it takes for the other person to open themselves up to me like that.
The mutual trust that leads to that kind of vulnerability.
“How did your former partners deal with this?” I ask, feeling as silly as I feel naive.
Estelle scoffs. “They didn’t, hence the fact that they are my former partners.” Her hand goes rigid against my cheek.
I cover her hand with mine. “Hey, I’m not them, okay?
I’m me. And yes, I need time and I need to adjust, but…
” But what? I’ll get used to it? I probably will.
“I still think you’re too good to be true,” I say, hoping my voice carries enough weight to make her believe me.
Because this might be awkward for me, but I have no idea how it feels for her.
“I’m so fucking not.” Her hand relaxes. “I’m a challenge, I know that.”
“I like a challenge.” I chuckle at my own lameness. “And I like you. A lot.” I thread my fingers through hers. “And thank you for that orgasm. No wonder it took me a while to come back to my senses.”
“I’m very good at taking the blame for a woman losing her mind.” She sinks her teeth into her pillowy bottom lip.
“You shouldn’t be.” I shake my head. “Hey, I don’t want to lose you, okay? You’re the best thing that has happened to me in a very long time.”
Estelle expels some air, then shuffles closer and wraps me tightly in her arms. “Oh, Cass,” is all she says.
* * *
Even though it’s Monday and we could be gawking at Sadie’s surfer ladies—Estelle included—I’ve asked Suzy if I could speak to her in the privacy of her home.
It only takes a few sips of wine for me to blurt out what I’ve come to say. “It drives me absolutely crazy sometimes that I can’t touch her.”
“Figures,” Suzy replies drily. “You want what you can’t have.”
“Please don’t say it only makes me human. I know I’m a human and I know what I want.” And I also know what I can’t have.
“Sure, but, Cass, your only option is to accept Estelle as she is.”
“I know, but… argh.” I put my hands on my temples. “I don’t know how.”
“Talk to her,” Suzy offers.
I shake my head. “We talk, but I can’t tell her how much I want her. I don’t want to make her feel like she’s not enough for me.”
“You’re going to have to find a way to make her be enough for you.” Suzy is full of wisdom tonight. “Estelle can’t change.”
“But I can? Is that what you’re saying?”
“If you don’t want to lose her.” I was expecting a touch more compassion from one of my best friends.
“Of course I don’t want to lose her, but… I can’t shake this feeling that I’m missing something vital in our relationship. The way she is with me. How she brought me out of my shell. Brought me back to life, in a sense. How she makes me feel… It just all feels so one-sided sometimes.”
“Because you can’t make her come?” Suzy may be a bit sharp, but she sure hits the nail on the head.
“Yeah.”
Suzy looks me in the eye. “You have to talk to Estelle about this. You can’t keep this to yourself and grow increasingly frustrated by it as time goes on.
She will understand, okay? She’s been through this before, I assure you.
” Suzy’s dealt with her fair share of preconceived notions in her own life.
“Prepare her a meal. Make it cozy. Make the situation non-threatening and just tell her how you feel.”
“But what difference does it even make if I tell her or not?”
“Communication. It’s the only way it’s going to work.” Suzy smiles gently. “Don’t wait until you’re in bed and can’t keep your hands off her, because that might be too much for her. Talk to her in a calm setting. Give it time. And don’t forget to count your blessings.”
Suzy’s right about one thing, I have a lot of blessings to count—I may need a mathematician to help me add them all up.
But I’m less convinced about talking this through with Estelle.
It’s not an easy thing to talk about and from what she’s told me, most of her relationships have ended because of the very thing I want to talk to her about.
I guess I’ll just have to see what happens.