Chapter 3 #5
They stumble to Susan’s bed, where Eliza pulls Susan on top of her. They yank each other’s underwear off, find their way deep into each other.
Sex for Susan is typically best defined by a certain stillness: finding a position that seems to work for both and holding it, the only motion coming from someone’s furiously working fingers or tongue.
Not so with Eliza. In fact, it’s as if they can’t hold still.
They wrap around each other endlessly, eager to experience all the different ways their bodies might fit together.
Eliza is smiling. At one point, she laughs.
“What’s so funny?” Susan says.
Eliza, still laughing, says, “Sorry, it just feels so good.”
So it’s mutual, this shock of pleasure. Susan grins. She would like to crawl all the way inside Eliza and live there, but three fingers will do for now. She watches Eliza’s eyes briefly roll back as they close.
“Do it harder,” Eliza urges her.
Meanwhile, Eliza is working some sort of dexterous witchcraft on Susan’s clit, sending glittering shock waves to her stomach. Susan wouldn’t be able to replicate the feeling if she tried (and she will).
It’s hard to talk while Eliza is touching her. It’s getting harder to think, too. The feeling is welling up inside her, growing bigger and bigger, and she’s worried she might lose control.
To stave it off, she pulls her mouth away from Eliza’s and plants it between her legs, where she pushes her tongue into Eliza and drinks from her.
Eliza digs her hands into Susan’s hair and arches back, opens her legs wider, makes room for Susan to taste more of her.
Eliza’s wetness, sweet and sticky as melted icing, slides out of Susan’s mouth, up her cheeks, and down her chin, a slippery face mask.
Susan imagines it has healing properties.
She’d like to coat her whole body in it, allow it to dry, and wear it like a second skin.
Susan is so close to orgasm that it’s going to happen without Eliza actually touching her.
For once she has perfect timing, and her climax rides the crescendo of Eliza’s.
The only thing she’s worried about is that it feels like her skull might get crushed between Eliza’s thighs, but that also doesn’t sound like a bad way to go out.
Trying hard to catch her breath, she crawls back up Eliza’s body, pausing to kiss her belly button ring, and then collapses on top of her. She doesn’t bother to wipe her mouth.
Eliza kisses the top of her head, and they fall asleep entangled.
Susan wakes up early. Eliza is sleeping with one arm across her face. The bedroom smells like low tide.
She gets up as quietly as she can and goes into the kitchen to make coffee. She’s tired but happy, wondering if maybe what happened last night is the start of something more. It feels like they really know each other, like they always have.
She tries to picture a future with Eliza, and it’s not hard: They’ll get a cute one-bedroom in an up-and-coming neighborhood with lots of trees and community gardens.
She’ll make Eliza coffee every morning, bring it to her in bed.
In the fall they’ll pick apples and in the summer they’ll take turns putting sunscreen on each other at the beach.
They’ll hold hands at shows, make out on the train, share a vintage leather jacket.
They’ll adopt an elderly three-legged mutt and name her something that will be humiliating to yell across the dog park, like Cashew, let her sleep in the bed.
On a whim, they’ll go to Paris for New Year’s Eve and gain twelve pounds each, then lose it together by getting really into CrossFit and protein powder.
Sunlight spills into the kitchen and everything is glowing.
When the coffee is ready, Susan takes a mug over to the couch where she sips it while scrolling through Twitter. She considers taking a mug to Eliza, but wants to let her sleep. She doesn’t have to leave for work for a couple of hours, but she can’t help checking the accounts she oversees.
Her phone vibrates. She answers quickly, hoping the buzzing didn’t wake Eliza.
“Oh my god,” Katie says. She’s already in her work clothes and a full face of makeup, and it looks like she’s in a taxi. “Tell me everything.”
Susan laughs and rubs her eyes. Mascara smears around her face. “So,” she whispers, unable to hide the smile that’s tugging the corners of her mouth.
The door to the bedroom opens and Eliza emerges.
“Hey,” Susan says, looking up.
“Oh my god,” Katie says again. “Is that her? Is she still there?”
Eliza is standing in the doorway, smiling. “Tell me that’s Katie,” she says.
“Eliza!” Katie shouts. “Susan, put her on.”
“We just woke up,” Susan protests. “Not everyone gets to work at, like, dawn.”
“Bitch, put her on!”
Eliza, who is wearing just her T-shirt from last night, comes to the couch and sits down next to Susan, resting her head on her shoulder so that her face is in the range of the camera.
“Holy shit,” Katie says. “Eliza, you look fucking amazing.”
“There is no way that’s true,” Eliza says.
It is, actually. Despite the messy traces of makeup still clinging to her skin, she looks perfect. Susan fights the urge to press her nose into Eliza’s cheek and huff it.
“Hey,” Eliza says, “I heard you’re getting married this weekend. Congratulations.”
“Oh, thanks,” Katie says. “It’s not really a big deal. It’s overdue, actually.”
“Come on,” Susan says. “It’s a huge deal. I’m so excited. I can’t believe you’re going to be someone’s wife.”
“Please. I’ve been someone’s wife for a long time.” And then her eyes light up. “Oh my god, Eliza, you should come.”
“What?” Eliza laughs. “Uh, thank you, but that’s okay. I don’t need to crash your wedding.”
If Katie notices Susan squirming, she doesn’t react. Instead, she presses: “No, seriously. Susan has a plus-one and isn’t bringing anyone. As far as I know. Are you, Suze?”
Susan shakes her head. “I am just going to be on call for you.”
“Nope,” Katie says. “Unacceptable. I need you to have a good time, not be my servant. Eliza, you’re coming, okay? I’ll have a seat for you, so you better show up.”
“Oh, jeez,” Eliza says, but she’s smiling. “Okay. Cool. See you this weekend, I guess.”
Susan says to the phone, “We’re going to talk about this later.”
“You’re welcome!” Katie blows a kiss and hangs up.
“I don’t have to come if you don’t want me to,” Eliza says, lifting her head off Susan’s shoulder.
“Are you kidding?” Susan says. “I really, really want you to. I just don’t know why you would want to.”
“I like weddings,” she says. “And also, I like you.”
“Well then, I guess we’re going to Katie’s wedding together,” Susan says, trying to control the surge of dopamine that’s threatening to take control of her body and make her dance like a happy puppet. “Do you want coffee?”
“I would literally do anything for a cup of coffee. Though I also have to start getting ready for work.”
“Me too,” Susan says, rising from the couch and pouring her a steaming mug.
“Do you mind if I shower? Not that I mind smelling like your pussy, but, you know. Work.”
Susan is overcome with desire. “Only if I can join you,” she says.
“How should we get there?” Eliza says as they get dressed together. “I mean, to the wedding.”
Susan’s hair is wet and dripping on the floor, her shoulders still pink from the orgasm she had as she clutched the shower curtain, trying not to fall over, while Eliza knelt in front of her.
“I’ll drive us,” Susan says, picking out a loose dress from her closet. Her body feels too raw for anything that would dig into her skin. “Oh, do you need to borrow anything for today? Like to wear?”
“Underwear would be amazing,” Eliza says. “Wait, do you still have the same car?”
Susan nods. “The Volvo has lived with my parents since Sandy. I’ll go get her Friday morning and then drive back to the city to swoop you up.”
“Dreamy,” Eliza says.
Susan digs around in her dresser for a pair of underwear that doesn’t have holes or period stains and tosses it to Eliza.
“Cute,” Eliza says, pulling it on. It’s a little big. “Now it’s like you’ll be with me all day.”
They walk to the G together, holding hands. Birds are chirping and lines are starting to form at the coffee shops. The sky is the clearest blue.
“Which way do you take it?” Susan says, at the top of the subway stairs.
“I’m going to walk,” Eliza says. “The office is that way.” She points toward Bushwick. “I just wanted to stay with you for as long as possible.”
Eliza puts an arm around Susan’s waist and pulls her in. They’re still kissing as a horde of people rushes up the stairs, and now they’re getting jostled and pushed apart.
Eliza laughs, already getting carried away in the crowd. “See you Friday,” she shouts, and then disappears.
Susan almost forgets about lunch until Heather texts her with a place and time.
She takes an Uber into the city. There are flowers everywhere: overflowing boxes on the windowsills with violets and pansies, purple and pink and blue petals, like someone is throwing a parade to celebrate Susan and Eliza’s budding love.
It doesn’t occur to Susan that the flowers are fake, just decoration and not natural blooms. She’s so high on hormones she’s forgotten it’s winter.
“We’re here,” the driver says, interrupting her reverie.
“Thank you!” she chirps, and then accidentally shuts the car door too hard behind her. “Sorry!”
Heather is waiting for Susan outside the entrance to a restaurant in the West Village.
She takes her sunglasses off as Susan approaches.
She’s wearing a herringbone overcoat, wide-legged black trousers, loafers, and a loose white button-down.
She grew her hair out this past year and now it swings just below her shoulders, the perfect lob. She’s always so deeply chic.
“I’m so happy to see you,” Susan says, and pulls Heather into a hug. “Two days without you is too many.”
For a moment, Heather sags into Susan’s arms.
“Are you okay?” Susan asks.
Heather pulls away. “Let’s just go inside,” she says.