Chapter Six #2
“No, I just, it’s kinda stuffy in here and today is my day off.” Aspen brightened. “And I always try to go to the beach on my day off.”
“Do we have to?” Mo grumbled, obviously very comfortable in her current digs.
“Yes, get some loose clothes on and some beach-safe shoes. We are going out.”
“Okay, but I’ll only go if you promise to answer some of my questions with more than just a yes or no,” Mo stated, standing with a tired grunt.
“If it gets you out of the cabin, then I agree. I swear, I don’t think you’ve left since I last saw you,” Aspen replied, taking another bite. “Now go shower, change, or whatever. I’ll hang out here.”
“There isn’t a door on the bathroom,” Mo said. “So only turn around if you’re brave.”
That comment threw Aspen off guard, and she choked slightly on her sandwich, which earned a small laugh from Mo, as she heard the woman’s bare feet pad across the hardwood behind her.
Aspen leaned back, making herself comfortable in a bid to act like Mo getting naked for a shower just a few feet away wasn’t as tempting as it was.
Instead, she focused on finishing her food and sipping her coffee as she looked around the rather dated cabin.
Mo was obviously not interested in keeping the cabin tidy—clothes were strewn about and her bags barely made it past the threshold.
That worried Aspen a little, but she knew it wasn’t really her business anyway.
If Mo wanted to talk about why she was depressed in a small cabin away from home, she’d get there in her own time.
Aspen heard the shower turn on and decided to slide over and look at the VHS tapes instead of sitting and imagining a naked Mo, water droplets gliding down over her soft skin.
She shook her head, blowing out a bit of air to keep herself grounded as she reviewed the selection on the shelf.
Most of the movie cases were pretty beat up, ranging from Disney classics to all the National Lampoon movies.
Aspen moved to kneel in front, pulling out each case to look at the cover design and remember how much she loved popping in a VHS when she was kid.
The sound as the player loaded, the pitch as the reel began to spin, and the crackle of the speakers as the ads would roll.
Movies were her best friend on lonely weekend nights in the camper.
The perfect distraction from her despair.
It was utterly nostalgic.
Aspen didn’t even notice when Mo returned to the room to dress, instead continuing to study each and every tape. But when she happened upon Speed in the lineup, she yelped in excitement. “I found your movie Mo!”
“Did you, now?” Mo answered, her voice closer than Aspen expected.
She reeled around to find an almost fully clothed Mo standing right behind her as she fell on her butt. A quick laugh was shared between the two of them as Mo slowly buttoned up a wrinkled maroon, loose-fitting long-sleeved shirt. Aspen gave a nervous wave.
“You are quick.”
“I am.” Mo nodded, leaning down to offer Aspen a hand, which she took graciously. “Though, I don’t really have beach shoes.”
Aspen, now standing, rubbed her hands together in embarrassment before taking charge. “What size are your feet?”
“I’m a nine.”
“Ooh, me too. I actually have a pair of water shoes in the back of Periwinkle that you can borrow.”
“It’s settled, then, I guess,” Mo said unenthusiastically. “We are off to the beach.”
“Yay!” Aspen exclaimed, clapping her hands together before trotting toward the door. “It’s not too windy or cold right now, so it should be super fun.”
“Am I going barefoot?”
“Yeah, until we get to the beach. You’ll be fine.
The pine litter won’t hurt you,” Aspen replied with confidence, pulling open the door and walking briskly to the car.
She adjusted her old T-shirt down over her belly and the low rise of her waistband, praying to any gods that could hear her thoughts that her butt crack wasn’t showing as she hopped into her car.
Mo wasn’t far behind, sliding in beside her with her coffee cradled protectively.
“Seat belt!”
“Aye aye, captain,” Mo said, snapping closed her belt. “How far is the beach?”
“With my lead foot, less than five,” Aspen assured, speeding out of the driveway and onto the road. “Us locals have passes to park at the visitor center near the beach, so I usually go there.”
“Cool.”
“Do you have a beach where you’re from?” Aspen asked, hoping Mo wouldn’t put up another fight.
“Do you wanna quid pro quo then?”
“Huh?” Aspen wrinkled her forehead, looking over at Mo once she stopped at the cross for the main road.
“Just a Latin saying that means ‘something for something.’ I know it from the Silence of the Lambs.”
Aspen shuddered a bit, turning out onto the 101. “That’s a scary movie. I’m not the biggest fan of those.”
“I get it, but yeah, it just means if I answer a question, then you answer a question,” Mo replied. Aspen was glad she seemed much calmer than the past few times they had talked.
“Deal,” Aspen agreed. “So, are there beaches from where you’re from?”
“I’m originally from rural Massachusetts, but I’ve spent all of my adult life in Palo Alto. Near San Fran.”
“Oh, that’s not that far from here.”
“It’s six or seven hours on a good day.” Mo laughed.
“Still closer than Massachusetts,” Aspen sang, a grin plastered to her face.
“Where did you grow up?”
Aspen’s face fell a bit before she took in a deep breath, knowing full well it was just an innocent question.
She wasn’t required to go into all the details, even if she felt the pressure.
So she simply replied, “I kinda grew up all over Northern California. But if I had to give you a town…Eureka is where I lived until a few years back. Before I moved to Orick, of course.”
“A true Cali girl,” Mo said.
Aspen didn’t reply, instead swinging her car into a spot close to the deck entrance to the beach.
“Brush-covered sand dunes are so odd,” Mo observed, opening her door to step out.
“I’ve not really thought about it.” Aspen followed suit, moving to the rear to open the trunk. She reached in and grabbed the water shoes, tossing them to the ground near Mo, before also snagging her baby-blue pop-up shade tent. “Alrighty, we are ready.”
“Let me guess, your favorite color is baby blue?” Mo asked as Aspen shut the trunk, hopping around to get one of the water shoes on fully.
“You skipped my question,” Aspen teased, waiting for Mo to finish donning the shoes before walking toward the bridge over the sand dunes. “But yeah, you’re right. So, what’s your favorite color?”
“What is this, a first date?”
Aspen skipped a step, barely catching herself as she climbed the stairs. “I guess that is kind of a lame question.”
“It’s purple,” Mo said with amusement, following Aspen. “Let’s just go with it. What’s your astrological sign?”
“Gemini,” Aspen replied proudly. “Actually, my birthday is in a couple weeks, so you can count this excursion as an early birthday present.”
“I don’t know if forcing a grumpy stranger to spend time with you counts as a very good present.”
She led Mo out onto the beach, breathing in the slight salty air as she walked toward a patch of sand that wasn’t too rocky.
Mo had stopped behind her, the woman’s gaze firmly on the dark-blue Pacific as it lapped rhythmically on the shore.
The sun wasn’t too bright, allowing the deep color to contrast well with the white of the sea foam.
Aspen let her be, instead choosing to set up the shade tent, staking down the corners with expert precision.
Once completed, Aspen called out to Mo, “Come and have a seat, I think I found a patch of sand that isn’t too rocky.”
Mo, shaking herself from her trance, nodded slowly before making her way over to the shade and crawling underneath to sit cross-legged. Aspen followed suit, sighing comfortably as she watched the sea tumble around.
“It’s gorgeous here,” Mo finally said, her voice tinted with the same sadness as the first night Aspen met her.
“Yeah,” Aspen agreed, even as she stared only at Mo. “So, I told you my sign…what’s yours?”
“Virgo,” Mo said quickly, turning to meet Aspen’s stare. “All right, let’s get a little more personal, what—”
“I’m divorced,” Aspen blurted out, cutting Mo off.
Mo laughed deeply, her body seeming to loosen with each passing chuckle. “You have a way with conversation that I have yet to experience, Aspen.”
“Hey, that’s a deeper thing,” Aspen defended, glad Mo took the bait. “It was a man too.”
“Ah. I don’t mean to assume, but how do you identify?”
“Lesbian,” Aspen answered. “It took me a while to figure it out, which is why I married my high school sweetheart.”
“Late bloomer. I also identify as a lesbian, but I figured it out much, much earlier. My parents weren’t so happy.”