Coast to Coast Read online

  Coast to Coast

  By Nanisi Barrett D’Arnuk

  Published by JMS Books LLC

  Visit jms-books.com for more information.

  Copyright 2018 Nanisi Barrett D’Arnuk

  ISBN 9781634866453

  Cover Design: Written Ink Designs | written-ink.com

  Image(s) used under a Standard Royalty-Free License.

  All rights reserved.

  WARNING: This book is not transferable. It is for your own personal use. If it is sold, shared, or given away, it is an infringement of the copyright of this work and violators will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

  No portion of this book may be transmitted or reproduced in any form, or by any means, without permission in writing from the publisher, with the exception of brief excerpts used for the purposes of review.

  This book is for ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It may contain sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which might be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be accessed by minors.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are solely the product of the author’s imagination and/or are used fictitiously, though reference may be made to actual historical events or existing locations. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Published in the United States of America.

  * * * *

  Coast to Coast

  By Nanisi Barrett D’Arnuk

  Marty slid onto the bench of the long booth, said a bright “Hi,” and planted a quick kiss on my cheek. I hadn’t seen her in about three weeks, which was rare. I usually saw her at least once a week, if not more.

  “Well, hello to you, too.” I smiled at her. What a surprise! I hadn’t seen her this happy in ages! “What’s gotten into you? Or should I ask who you’ve gotten into?”

  Marty bobbed her head in a mock show of embarrassment and smiled up at me. “I met someone,” she told me. The glint in her eyes showed her feelings.

  I sat back without a word. A raised eyebrow was my only response.

  “I met someone,” Marty reiterated.

  “Two someones? Or just being redundant?”

  “One someone.” Marty laughed. “One hell of a someone.” The look on her face was astonishing. Her eyes even glowed.

  I smiled at my friend. I knew I’d have to ask if I wanted to know more. Marty was the type to offer just a little of what she wanted you to know: the very basics, no details.

  “I thought you spent last week in Boston. Is this a Hahvid Yahd adventure?”

  Marty smiled a wide grin I had not seen in several years.

  “It was an incredible week. The conference was really exciting, the work was surprisingly interesting, and there was this woman on the East Coast team who…” She let the sentence hang. She took a deep appreciative breath, sucking it in through her teeth.

  I nodded in approval. “Well, congratulations, pal. It looks great on you.” I pushed my teacup toward the waitress, who suddenly appeared with the pot of hot water in hand.

  “Can I get you anything?” she asked Marty as she refilled my cup.

  “Coffee, please,” Marty replied.

  The waitress nodded and stepped away. Marty waited until she returned with the cup of coffee. Then, as the waitress left again, Marty poured sugar into the cup and stirred it slowly. I studied her every move, including the silly grin plastered across her face.

  “Mm…mm…mm.” I shook my head in disbelief. “Will wonders never cease?”

  “It was incredible!” Marty continued. “We went to the conference, we went back to bed, we went to a meeting, we went back to bed…”

  “Whew.” I let out a sigh of relief. “You had me going there for a moment. I thought this was something more than lust. You’ve just restored my faith in you, my old friend.”

  “It is more. At least I think it is. The woman is smart—really, really intelligent. She graduated from Mount Holyoke College. She’s pretty. And she has a great body.”

  At least this one was out of high school.

  “And how old is this wonder woman?” I asked, almost afraid to know.

  “Almost thirty.”

  “How almost?”

  Marty’s judgment of age range fell way short of the mark more times than not.

  “Twenty-nine.”

  I nodded in amazed approval. “Then I am impressed.” I’d met many of Marty’s conquests over the years, each one just slightly younger or dumber than the last. “Does she have a name?”

  “Taylor.” Marty said it as though it were sacred.

  “First or last?” I asked.

  “First. Taylor Williamson.” She said it with such determination and excitement, it seemed she’d hit the lottery.

  “Could it be that Mighty Marty Pendleton has finally met her match?”

  Marty shrugged as she sipped her coffee. “We stayed at her apartment. We only used my hotel room between conference sessions.”

  “So. Do I get to put my stamp of approval on this one? When do I get to meet her?”

  A cloud crossed Marty’s face. “I don’t know.”

  I studied my friend once again. “Let me take a wild guess here.” I looked into Marty’s eyes. “You haven’t told her you even like her, and you haven’t made the slightest allusion toward anything in the future.” I knew my friend much too well.

  “Well, it’s not like I’ll never see her again. She’s on this task force, so we have to be in contact. There’s time.”

  “Don’t blow it, pal. You’re not getting any younger yourself.”

  I hoped Marty had indeed found a special someone. I’d seen Marty prowl the lesbian and gay bars every weekend, looking for someone, anyone, who was willing to take the chance of going home with her; someone who didn’t know or didn’t care about her reputation.

  We had a unique friendship, however, that went beyond our bed partners. I didn’t exactly approve of Marty’s sexual appetite or bedfellows, but it wasn’t my place to argue Marty’s choices. I just picked up the pieces afterwards.

  “Let me recap this, just so I know I have it right.” I smiled at Marty. “She lives in Boston…”

  “Cambridge,” she corrected me.

  “Excuse me, Cambridge. You live here in Seattle. You haven’t said or even hinted at anything with the word ‘future’ in it, and you have no concrete plans to see her again any time soon. In spite of that, you might like her quite a bit. I didn’t know phone sex was in your repertoire.”

  “I guess we’ll find that out, too.” Marty grinned. “I’m always willing to try something different.”

  I sighed in resignation. “Yes, I know.”

  Being Marty’s friend was more like being her keeper. Since we graduated from high school and college, I’ve seen her through too many wicked hangovers, numerous broken hearts (both Marty’s and the other woman’s), and, occasionally, a bar fight or two. I’ve made sure she had safe sex supplies and enough money to get home by taxi if she was too drunk to drive or at least enough to call a bail bondsman. Now I guess I’d have to see that she saved enough for airfare.

  “I’m going to send her flowers,” Marty blurted.

  “I take it then that she’s a femme.”

  “Very,” Marty answered. “I think I’m in love.”

  I looked at her and was silent for a few minutes. If Marty were any other lesbian, I’d have said, “Okay. U-Haul time?” But this was Marty. Marty never fell in love, never, as in NOT EVER—in Caps and italics. She’d break out in a cold sweat or even hives if anyone even mentioned the word.

  “Bad?” I asked.

  Marty simply nodded.

  Now the protective side of me kicked
in.

  “Am I going to have to go to Boston and check her out?” I asked.

  “No,” Marty said as she shook her head. “No, not this time.”

  “When’s the next task force meeting?”

  “Middle of next month.”

  Considering this was only the fourth of this month, that would be at least five or six weeks away.

  “Can you hold on to it that long?”

  Marty put her head in her hands. “I guess I’ll have to,” she finally said.

  “Am I going to have to find you something to do to keep you busy, or will you continue your regular lifestyle in the meantime?”

  Marty looked up in surprise. “No! I’m through with those others. I’ve found the one I want. I have no need to look around.”

  I nodded slowly. I’d have to see that. In the twelve years since we graduated, Marty had never settled for just one woman. Sometimes, I thought she wanted to sample every lesbian in Washington State. She’d already done a majority, I think.

  * * * *

  Surprisingly, this one lasted the month and a half until their next meeting. Phone sex was in Marty’s repertoire. Every time I called her, I got a busy signal. I think they were on the phone 24/7. Any time I did get to talk to her, I’d get Taylor this and Taylor that. Marty was obsessed, but it was a nice obsession. It looked good on her.

  * * * *

  “What’s with Marty?” her brother Sean asked me when I ran into him at the grocery store several days later.

  Sean was as far opposite from Marty as day from night. He was gay, too, but where Marty was a butch’s butch, Sean was a flaming queen. Where Marty was surly and curt, Sean was gregarious and funny. His real name was James, but you only mentioned that under penalty of death. Sean was three years older than Marty but much, much more mature. He was also very organized and responsible. Sean was quite careful with his relationships. Most lasted quite a while. He’d make some man a wonderful husband someday.

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “She hasn’t been doing any of the things she usually does,” he stated. “She hasn’t been going out to the bars. Her phone line is always busy, and when I do get through, she’s home alone. That’s not Marty at all.”

  I had to laugh. Yes, that was not the Marty we knew and loved. “Has she told you about Taylor?”

  “Girlfriend, most of the time, I don’t want to know who she’s with,” he said.

  “Well,” I admitted, “It seems Taylor is different. I have the feeling your sister is in love.”

  “No way,” he said, feigning horror. “Not Marty. She’ll never fall in love. Which one of her tricks is this?”

  “It seems Marty met someone when she was at that conference in Boston a couple months ago,” I told him. “This Taylor person lives in Cambridge, Massachusetts. I think they’re on the phone 24/7.”

  “That’s scary,” he said, looking down at his designer shoes, which were polished to a mirror shine. “Half of the bars in this town will go out of business without her.”

  I laughed. Sean was right. Marty spent most of her paycheck in one bar or another each and every week. She was known throughout the city.

  “Well, she says she’s going to be faithful,” I said softly.

  “Well, I’ll believe that when I see it,” Sean declared.

  “Don’t you have faith in your sister?”

  “Not when it comes to lovers,” he chortled. “She’s struck out too many times. Have you met this Taylor?”

  “No, I haven’t,” I admitted. “But if it looks like a major move is imminent, either east to west or west to east, I definitely will.”

  “I keep telling you, Elaine,” Sean said with a shake of his head, “you don’t have to be responsible for her. She’s a grown woman, whether she acts like one or not.”

  “I know, hon,” I told him. “But someone has to look out for her, and you don’t have the patience.”

  He nodded. “You’re a better woman than I, my friend.”

  I had to laugh at the concerned look on his face.

  “Is this Taylor a man or a woman?” he finally asked. I knew he’d been chewing on it for a while.

  “You think your sister would fall for a man?” I gasped.

  “Well, stranger things have happened. This whole thing is out of the ordinary.”

  “No, Sean.” I laughed. “Taylor is a woman.”

  “I had hoped so, but it takes all kinds. With my sister, you never know what’s going to happen. Is this Taylor over twenty-one?”

  “Yes, she’s twenty-nine and a college graduate.”

  Sean took a deep breath. “Wow. Let me know if you find out more. I’ve got to run.” He gave me an air kiss and walked away.

  Now, why couldn’t Marty be more like Sean?

  * * * *

  Marty and Taylor continued their long-distance romance for over two months. Then Marty went back to Boston for a meeting of her task force. I guess they picked up their hot relationship because Marty didn’t call like she used to do.

  Almost three weeks passed before I saw her again. We met for dinner at our favorite steak house.

  “Elaine,” Marty started. “I’m more in love than ever. I didn’t think this could get any better, but here it is!”

  “So when’s the move going to take place?” I asked, fearing the answer.

  “Well…” Marty began, “I’m not even sure there’s going to be one.”

  “Because you haven’t mentioned it?” I suggested.

  “Neither of us has,” she said with a deep sigh.

  “Do you want it to happen?”

  “I hate being so far away from her.”

  “Maybe you should both move to middle ground. Like St. Louis?”

  “That is a thought, but we both like living near an ocean. Did I tell you we went deep-sea fishing?”

  I shook my head. “Catch anything?”

  “No. But we had a lot of fun. Taylor says next time we’ll go to Provincetown. I guess that’s a gay Mecca on the tip of Cape Cod.”

  “I’ve heard about it.” I nodded. “So you’ll always go there.”

  “So far. I’m trying to persuade her to come to Seattle so we can go whale-watching.”

  Just then, Sean and his latest, Ryan, walked in. When Sean spied us, they came right over to our table.

  After the introductions, I asked Sean and Ryan to join us.

  “Well, sis,” Sean started, “How’s it going? How was Boston?”

  Marty’s face lit up. “I’m in love,” she told him.

  “Again? Did this one last more than three days?” Sean knew Marty too well. He waited for her to explain.

  “This one’s lasted over three months,” she informed him.

  “And you expect me to believe that?”

  Marty bobbed her head. “Yup.”

  Sean looked over at Ryan. “My sister never falls in love, and her relationships aren’t known for their lengthiness.” Then he looked at me. “Is she telling the truth?”

  “It seems so, Sean.”

  “You told me last month she had a new trick. Is this the same one?”

  I nodded.

  “This one is not a trick,” Marty told him.

  “You’re not serious.”

  Marty just nodded.

  “Did you have her hypnotized or put something in her food?” he asked me.

  “Nope.” I smiled. “I haven’t met this one yet.”

  “Then this could still be a drunken hallucination.

  “She hasn’t been drinking,” I said.

  Sean looked at me, then Marty, then Ryan, then back at Marty. “And none of the bars have called to find out if you’re still alive?”

  “Go to hell, Sean,” was Marty’s response.

  Just then, the waiter appeared to take their order.

  “You need to have some faith in your sister,” I said, trying to smooth this down. “I’m seeing a difference.”

  “Then I’ll take your word
for it. You’ve never been one to sugar-coat the truth.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t have to. Taylor seems to be a good influence.”

  Sean studied his sister. “Are you treating her right?”

  “Sean!” Marty exploded. Then her voice got low, and she whispered through her teeth, “Of course I am. This one is forever. I will not treat her badly. I love her.”

  Sean sat up and looked at me. “Yes, I see a difference, too.”

  The meals were delivered, and we started to eat. It seemed to settle some of Marty’s animosity, too. I guess she was hungry as well.

  I turned to Ryan. “I’m sorry to introduce you to the family like this,” I said to him. “It’s not every day that Sean’s sister falls in love.”

  Ryan took a deep breath. “That’s all right,” he said with a smile. “It could have been worse. He could have been like her.”

  I smiled. “But he’s not,” I noted.

  “Yes, I know. It’s a real eye-opener.”

  And so, Sean’s relationship with Ryan seemed solidified.

  * * * *

  It seemed everything was going fantastically. Marty didn’t drink as much, didn’t carouse, and seemed to be becoming a model citizen.

  That was, until several weeks after that third meeting, when I finally went to her house to find her. I hadn’t heard from her in over a week, and when I called, there was never an answer. The phone rang, so I knew she wasn’t talking on it. It wasn’t like Marty to just let it ring.

  When I knocked on the door, I heard, “It’s open.” She must have seen my car drive up out front.

  She was sitting in her living room with a six-pack, half of them empty. There were ashes in the ashtray and scattered around the coffee table, and an open pack of Camels beside it.

  “What’s the story, pal?” I asked, looking around at the mess in her house.

  She turned to face me. “What do you mean?” she asked, taking a last swig from the beer in her hand.

  “Want to go outside for some fresh air?”

  “I don’t need a babysitter. Or fresh air,” Marty said testily.

  Now this was the Marty I knew.

  “I wasn’t offering childcare. I just thought you’d like to get out of the smoke for a while.” I backed off just a bit. In those sixteen years since high school and twelve since college, I’d honed the fine art of working my way around Marty’s moods. “Come on outside and sit on the back steps with me. I could use the fresh air.”