Chapter 19

I'll admit, I definitely felt a little lighter as I made my way out of the bar that evening to head over to Debbie's place. It wasn't that I'd expected Kathryn to react badly - or at all, necessarily. It really wasn't about her at all so much as my own mental divisions between work and home, private and public, and my neatly delineated life usually made that quite easy. My friendship with Kathryn messed with that delineation and mostly I was able to ignore that. This, I guess, was an exception.

Debbie greeted me warmly when I arrived at hers, taking my coat and ushering me into her small but cozy flat. "Dinner's almost ready - your timing is perfect," she said, grinning.

"Usually," I said with a returning smile, leaning to kiss her cheek. We had had a few chaste kisses now, but it still wasn't an evening opener. "This place is gorgeous, Deb," I said, looking around her open plan lounge and kitchen area.

"Thanks, I'm pretty fond of it myself. I know I sacrificed space for being able to live on my own, but it's so worth it." She had decorated sparsely, with just a few pictures on the wall and accent pillows on the chairs, but it looked nice. It was a little smaller than my place but much better decorated, with wallpaper in the kitchen and no creaky floorboards.

I took a seat on the couch where she gestured, while she pulled a bottle of wine out of the fridge and poured out two glasses. "Here we are," she said, crossing the room again to offer me one.

"Thanks," I replied, glad I'd been drinking only a little earlier that night if we were going to start on wine before dinner. "Something smells amazing," I murmured.

"Oh, just a little something I threw together," Debbie said with a shy smile, sitting down in the couch next to me. "I hope you're hungry."

"Starving," I said honestly, grinning and sipping at my drink.

"Well, good. How was work? Tell me about your day."

 

Relaxing back on the couch, I told Debbie all about my day - the usual form filling and administration that I could never seem to escape, wrestling with software, dodging back and forth between my office and the lab, the afternoon seminar that about half my students actually showed up to and even fewer spoke in. I actually enjoyed my job a lot, but some days were just a grind.

Debbie listened closely, nodding at all the right points and making sympathetic noises. She might've made the move to big business but she had spent plenty of time at university and knew how frustrating it could be.

"So anyway, what did you do today?"

"Oh, the usual... work, and then rushing home to clean up this place," she said with a smirk.

"I find it hard to believe you let this place get dirty," I said, narrowing my eyes a little, though my lips twitched into a smile. "You don't seem like the type for clutter."

"Hey, it gets messy! Sometimes I leave my socks on the floor for like, days."

"I don't believe it for a second."

Debbie made a face. "You think I'm some obsessive-compulsive neat freak, don't you?"

"No..." When she looked doubtful I shook my head emphatically. "I really don't. I like neat - I'm quite neat. Sometimes."

"Well, so am I. Sometimes."

 

Debbie was in a good mood tonight - perhaps it was because we were in her flat but she was more relaxed and confident than I think I'd ever seen her. She had made a delicious meal - chicken cacciatore - and over dinner we chatted about various things, including Lynn's newest disastrous relationship with one of our peripheral acquaintances.

"I just think... well, you know her better than me, of course," I said, "but it seems to me like she just jumps into these things when someone catches her eye, you know?"

"Yeah," Debbie agreed, leaning forward to top up our glasses, "but I kind of admire that, y'know? I mean, she has a lot of fun."

"And a lot of heartbreak."

"That too."

"Don't get me wrong," I found myself adding, "I get it - hell, I do it... well, used to, anyway. I totally get the exciting but crazy thing. But..." I made a face. "It never works."

"I guess that would be the downside. But as long as she's okay with that... or you're okay with that..." She gave me a sidelong glance.

My smile turned a little wry, and I shook my head. "It gets tired. I'm prepared to bet Lynn will get tired of it too, when she reaches our ripe old age."

"And until then, we'll be there with our withered shoulders for her to cry on when it all goes bad."

"Quite."

 

Debbie's cooking was as good as it smelled. I ate more than I should have - probably due in part to the wine I had had (as well as the whisky in the bar before). Afterwards I collapsed back onto the sofa and Debbie settled down next to me, her knee just brushing mine. "So, do you have to head home? Because we could put a film on..."

I hesitated. I was too drunk for this. Not watching a film, or chatting, but... this was It. I was in her home, we'd had a lovely homemade dinner, plenty of wine, and we were now sitting, legs touching, not-yet-coised-up on her couch. Tonight was the night when we either took things to 'the next level' (or a next level, at least) or called it a day. If I went home, it was over. And I wasn't sure that I was ready for either of those things. Still, it wasn't as though she hadn't given me plenty of time to make my mind up.

"What DVDs do you have?"

 

We ended up watching Bend It Like Beckham - a silly, lighthearted film that we had both seen before. We sat next to each other for some time before Debbie made her 'move', leaning over to put an arm around my shoulders midway through the movie.

I almost grinned, which would have seemed a little inappropriate, but usually I was the one doing the 'arm around the shoulders' maneuver. As it was this was actually a nice change, and I relaxed against her, resting my head on her shoulder. We sat like that until the credits rolled. Then it was time.

Debbie shifted, just slightly, pulling back far enough to tip her head to face me, and this time when I lifted my chin and kissed her it wasn't a chaste peck - I moved my hand to cup her jaw, pulling her closer and touching my lips to hers slowly, opening my mouth just a little. She slid her free hand around my waist, closing her eyes as she returned the kiss. I'll admit I didn't feel any fireworks, but she smelled nice and was a good kisser, using the right pressure and just a hint of tongue.

This wasn't the way I usually did things. Usually my first really intimate encounter with a woman would be spontaneous, passionate, often the first time we met. Sometimes they led somewhere, sometimes not - I was always open to just 'seeing where things led' - it's pretty much been my watchword in life.

But as I leant in, bearing Debbie back a little on the couch, freeing up my other hand to slip it beneath her top to rest against the smooth bare skin just above her waistline, I found myself thinking that if this was the way I should be doing things now - the grown-up way, where you date for a while, get to know one another, and then the rest... well, it didn't seem as bad as all that.

 

I left some time later - not that I would've had to, as I'm sure Debbie would've invited me to stay if I had angled for it. I didn't want to, though. Not because she wasn't attractive and I wasn't enjoying our new level of intimacy, but I figured this whole 'grown-up' thing probably frowned on jumping into bed immediately after your first make-out session. So, feeling like a responsible adult I kissed her good-bye (a real kiss this time) and headed out to find a taxi home.

It was only really now, sitting in the back of the cab on my way back across town, that I had time to think about Kathryn's reaction - or lack of reaction, I suppose - to my 'coming out' to her.

She had seemed interested in my private life for a while now, and as she didn't strike me as an incredibly nosy person I guessed it must've been because of our friendship and the fact that she had opened up to me so much. She just wanted reciprocation, not juicy gossip, and indeed when I had finally told her about Debbie her questions had all been about her, not the usual things I've come to expect from a certain sort of straight person.

I mused that I would probably find out more about what Kathryn felt one way or the other about this new information the next time we went sailing, which was this weekend, in fact. I suppose the only niggling little worry I had was that, now that she knew about my 'proclivities', she'd be more likely to notice any interest I had in other women. Which of course wouldn't be a problem but for the fact that I was becoming more than a little bit attracted to her.

I reassured myself that I was probably safe - people never saw what they weren't expecting, and even if Kathryn knew I was gay she was still my boss. Still, I resolved to be careful.

 

My resolution would have been fine, except for one thing: the surprisingly fine, sunny weather that weekend that meant Kathryn spent most of her time on the wayfarer in little more than a vest, shorts, and boat shoes.

[[NOTE FOR EDIT: TWEAK WHOLE STORY SO THAT ABOUT SIX MONTHS HAVE PASSED BY THIS POINT]]

It was only out third trip out since the 'season' had begun and the last two had been distinctly uncomfortable - barely any warmer than when we'd stopped in November, and wet to boot - but this was one of those rare March days where the stiff wind was offset with clear skies and an incredibly warm sun. Still, I wasn't as tough as Katherine, still in a light fleece and combats. To look at Kathryn you'd have thought that summer had come early.

We had gotten pretty good at working together by now, each of us knowing out roles and coordinating with only a word or a look. Skimming along on a brisk breeze, Kathryn shifted her weight to lean out over the water, revelling in the feel of the sun on her bare skin and shooting me a wide grin - one far too infectious not to return although I'm sure it made me look like a grinning fool.

Back toward the end of the season last year we'd been going out in a trio, taking one of the on-site instructors with us, partly to help me get back up to speed but partly because the weather at that time of year made going out just two to a boat a little inadvisable. Now, though, it was just the two of us, and the sense of independence coupled with the privacy of this made our trips all the more enjoyable.

I knew Kathryn had been stressed lately - not all of her projects were running smoothly, and just yesterday she had spent most of the day in a foul mood that no one could explain, though they were all too busy avoiding her to even try. I had been worried that she might try and cancel our plans, but she had arrived bright and early that morning in a seemingly much improved mood, and had shown no inclination towards sulking all day.

Mind you, we were friends, and while I wouldn't ask her what was wrong at work (making me part of the problem) it seemed as though now would be a time when it was only compassionate to do so.

"So, er, how have things been?" I asked when we hit a nice smooth patch, raising my voice a little over the sound of the waves and the wind in our sail.

"Oh, you know... Things could be better in the lab," she replied, grimacing.

I shot her a sympathetic look. "Anything I can do?" I was already pretty much run off my feet but I knew I wasn't pulling as long hours as Kathryn.

She shook her head and then opened her mouth to speak, shutting it abruptly and then frowning to herself. Though the wind was strong I could almost hear her sigh to herself. Eventually she spoke. "Keith is coming back."

Ah. "That's... Well, good and bad, I suppose?" I hazarded, tipping my head to get a proper view of her expression.

It was difficult to read. "He wants to take over his old projects. Just like that. After dumping them in my lap."

I nodded, frowning a little. Then something occurred to me. "Wait, including the Summit?" The [University] Climate Change Summit had been conceived by Keith just before he'd left, but had since been taken on by Kathryn, with a little help from myself, and pretty much reinvented from the ground up. He'd originally conceived it as a first year project for undergrad geosciences students, but we'd managed to secure some external funding and had turned it into a cross-educational conference of sorts for fifteen to twenty year olds, with the university age students running workshops and presentations for the secondary school kids. My first year seminar group were already well into preparation for it and were pretty fired up about it.

"I don't know," she said, shaking her head. "Quite possibly."

"But that's..." I trailed off. Me going into a rage was hardly going to help matters, was it? Then a thought struck me. "Wait, if Keith's coming back, is Keira..." And if she was, did I still have a job?

"Keira quit. And I'm sure as hell not re-hiring her, especially not when I've got a better person on the job already."

"Right. Right." I felt bad now, for even thinking about my own comfort when Kathryn was the one who's recently ex husband was returning from halfway across the world with his new partner in tow. "Oh, you'll be looking forward to seeing Jonas again, though, right?" I said, my tone brightening a little. Kathryn talked to and occasionally even skyped with her son quite regularly, but I knew she'd been missing him.

"Yes," she said, raising her voice to be heard as the wind picked up. The small craft began to skitter forward and for a minute we worked in silence to get it back under control. Eventually we re-established the proper course and Kathryn spoke again. "It'll be good to have him back. And I'm sure everything else will work out. I'll make sure the Summit goes ahead as planned - we've put too much work into it to just hand it over now."

I nodded. "Are you worried about working with him now?" I asked after a short pause, a moment later kicking myself for asking such an obvious and probably unwanted question.

"Keith and I always worked well together. I see no reason for that to be any different now." Her words were firm, but even over the sound of the wind and the waves I could her the faint tremor of nerves in her voice. I doubt most people would have noticed, but I had gotten good at reading her over the past X months.

"Well, you can always make him come to me for everything," I said in what I hoped was a helpful tone. Then I remembered Keira. "I mean- I didn't mean-..." I broke off, lost for words now. "You know what I-"

I was interrupted by a whoop of laughter. "Oh God, Alex! It's okay, you can take your foot out of your mouth now."

I managed to laugh, now, a little of my discomfort dissipating, although I knew I still had an extra blush on top of the healthy glow from the sea air. "Sorry. I'm kind of an idiot."

"It's okay. You're a very cute, endearing idiot," Kathryn told me with a grin.

Something that had up until that moment been fluttering happily inside my stomach suddenly slid lower, and I fought the urge to squirm. "I... um..."

"The wind's picking up - time to reduce sail!"

 

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