Back Talk by Saxon Bennett Page A

how I’d feel better.”
    Hilton laughed again.
    “What?” Anne asked. They both plopped down on the couch.
    Anne grabbed the remote and clicked on the gas fireplace.
    “Sometimes you remind me so much of the woman who should be my girlfriend.”
    “Who’s that?”
    “My roommate Liz, the woman who brought you upstairs.
    She’s all the things I admire and respect.”
    Anne kicked her shoes off and tucked her feet under her. “Can I ask you a personal question?”
    “No.”
    Anne was momentarily stunned.
    “I’m kidding. Shoot.”
    “What exactly is the deal with you and Natalie?”
    “Boy, you had me freaked for a minute there. I thought you 62
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    were going to ask something serious.” Hilton took off her sneakers, and Anne thought she might be starting to relax. She had the impression that Hilton didn’t relax well. Hilton continued, “That’s more like public information. Nat is basically a bitch-cunt-whore and I’m perfect.”
    Anne nearly choked on her beer.
    This really made Hilton laugh. “No, really, we are each other’s first loves and it’s gone bad. We probably should call it quits, but we grew up together and it’s hard to let go. Nat got thrown out of her house when she was fourteen and she came to live with Gran and me.”
    Anne put her beer down on the end table, being careful to use a coaster. It was one of Gerald’s pet peeves and it still stuck with her.
    She positioned a pillow behind her head. Her neck was killing her.
    She needed to go to the chiropractor. She had one more question.
    It was one Gerald couldn’t answer or wouldn’t answer.
    “You can ask it.” Hilton met her gaze.
    “Ask what?” Anne made a semi-gallant attempt, just for the sake of appearances, to look innocent. It failed. She could tell by the look of Hilton’s face.
    “It’s the question every straight woman eventually asks a lesbian. How does it work? What happens to make you cross that line?”
    “All right, I admit it. Gerald gave some lame excuse about how it just happened and one day he was in love with another man. I don’t buy that.”
    “He’s not completely off base. I think deep down we all have an inkling that something isn’t quite right in the House of Straight.
    We play along for as long as we can until one day the right person with the right spark comes along and burns down the house. I just remember being sixteen and late one night Nat plants this kiss on me and tells me she’s in love. Next thing I know all those weird feelings I had at soccer practice and those other intense strange friendships all make sense. I knew then that I liked women, but it took Nat’s rash bravado to bring it all to the surface.”
    “What did your grandmother think about all this?”
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    “We never told her. I was twenty-four when she died and I never had a boyfriend. She knew.” Hilton shrugged. “I don’t think she really cared. She wasn’t that fond of men herself. When she got sick I started to try and explain things but she stopped me. She said there were two things I must do—be happy, and if I ever did get married make damn sure the bastard signed a prenuptial agreement.”
    “Smart lady. So it really does just happen.”
    “If there’s a seed …” Hilton yawned and rubbed her eyes.
    “We better be done. Let’s go get you and Shannon set up. Does she need a bowl of water?”
    “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”
    Anne got a bowl of water and they collected Shannon.
    “You know she’s going to sleep on the bed,” Hilton said as they entered the guest room. Hilton stared at the tall rows of bookcases filled with tattered paperbacks that took up one wall of the room.
    “And it’s quite all right,” Anne said.
    She turned back to look at Anne. “The books in the living room were Gerald’s and these are yours, correct?”
    “You got it. I love mystery novels.”
    “It’s quite a collection,”