A ghost from Rose’s past throws a wrench in the works.
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Counting Flowers on the Wall
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Rose McGuire was still somewhat amazed by the simple things that captivated her those days. She had been staring at a series of green vines and assorted flowers that had been painted on the wall of her cellar-apartment by the beautiful blonde girl sleeping next to her. It was hard to make out details by the ghostly light emitted by the television and its electric snow. Charlotte had thought it would be a great way of “livening up” the place, and Rose had discovered that there were very few things she would refuse the young woman. She glanced down and softly kissed her lover on the forehead after brushing her hair out of the way. Charlotte was curled up with her head on Rose’s chest, snoring lightly. It had only been four months since the young woman who she had known in high school had come looking for her. She and Rose had played high school soccer together until Rose got kicked off the team when it was discovered she was a lesbian. Apparently, the young woman was also gay, and had wanted Rose to be her first “experience.” But Rose had switched schools, and Charlotte had lost track of her until a casual sighting of Rose wandering the woods above the college soccer fields. Charlotte had contrived the situation under which the two of them had been reintroduced. Charlotte had discovered that Rose was a tow-truck driver (at that time), and had arranged for her car to have problems where Rose would be the person most likely to be called. They had quickly bonded as friends, and became lovers shortly after that.
While fairy-tale like in many respects, their relationship hadn’t been without its problems. After outing herself to her parents, Charlotte had been asked to bring Rose over for a family dinner, which Rose left in tears. Charlotte’s mother had been as friendly as a starving hyena. While Rose had received a written apology, it had been empty and everyone involved knew it. Rose got along great with Charlotte’s father though. He had helped her get a job at an upscale auto garage and sales lot where she got to restore custom cars. She was earning good money at it and loved her work. She had even put off the idea of opening her own garage for a while. She wasn’t in a rush anymore.
Charlotte had come over that evening (she came over most evenings when she wasn’t on the road with her college soccer team) and had insisted on doing the painting. She had painted one set of vines in an outline of a human body and had used Rose as her model. She insisted on Rose being nude. That particular session of painting hadn’t lasted long before the two were in bed together. They were physically quite different. Rose was definitely the “butch” of the two, though she was still highly feminine. She was muscular and toned with bright red hair that she had traditionally kept in a flowing mohawk. She had let her hair start growing out again and had trimmed down the mohawk, moving towards a more business-acceptable look. Charlotte had medium-length blonde hair with were always kept in pigtails. She had big blue eyes and an angelic face. She had well-rounded curves and warm, smooth skin. She liked cute clothes, whereas Rose went for practical denim or tight leather. In high school, Rose had been seen as the “discontent” or “troublemaker,” while Charlotte had been the “good girl” and the “all-American sweetheart.” Well, the sweetheart belonged to the troublemaker, and she wasn’t always a good girl. They had made love several times that day, causing the painting to go slowly. And with each vine and flower Rose looked at, a moment of that day flitted across her memory.
“You should be sleeping,” came a voice from beneath a mop of blonde hair. “You have to work tomorrow.”
“I thought you WERE asleep,” responded Rose.
“Your breathing isn’t as smooth when you’re awake. Make’s it harder for me to sleep. If you couldn’t sleep, you should have woken me up. We could have talked . . .” said Charlotte, holding Rose closer, ” . . . or snuggled.”
“Snuggling leads to other things sweetie, and you have class in the morning.” But Rose’s heart wasn’t in her argument. When Charlotte had started stirring, the sheet got pulled back and her beautiful, large breasts came into view.
“Class doesn’t start until 9:30, and I’m fairly close to campus already. And since I’m awake now, I need you to tire me out.” She started kissing Rose’s neck.
“Goodness girl, do you ever think about anything else?” Moan.
“Yes, but I’ve been trying to cut back.” Her lips made their way up Rose’s chins until they in were in place for a long, slow kiss. “C’mon, just a quickie? I promise I’ll be good after that.”
“Don’t you dare,” responded Rose as she grabbed the warm flesh of one of Charlotte’s breasts.
“I thought you’d see things my way.” Her hand drifted down to Rose’s sex garden and a finger slipped between the two lips. She just let it work its way back and forth as Rose’s mound started swelling and her moisture level increased. Then she brought a second finger into the picture, fucking Rose with her miniature cock. Rose had no choice but to reciprocate, and soon they were just lying next to each other and humping on another’s hand while kissing each other’s faces, necks and lips.
It was one of those rare situations where they felt no need to break into Rose’s bag of sex toys. They weren’t rushing anything. They simply loved the feeling of being with each other and in each other, even in that small way. The tempo of their respective fingerings increased, as did their kissing rate. It only took five minutes before they brought each other to simultaneous orgasm. They were both so spent from the days activities that they didn’t have much left, but they enjoyed the sensation just the same. The were pressed tightly together, almost as if wanted to share their pleasure with their partner and wishing some of it could be transferred through their skin.
“Now go to sleep,” said Charlotte, placing her head back on Rose’s chest.
“Whatever you say,” whispered Rose. And finally sleep took them both.
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As is the case in many peoples lives, things got complicated at the very moment they seemed to be perfect. Such was the case in Rose’s life. When she got home from work the next day, there was a sheriff’s car in her driveway. She recognized Deputy Smith right away. He was a good cop who checked in periodically to make sure she was okay. Initially it was because he had hoped to get her into bed, but he had quickly transitioned into the role of ‘friend’ when he found out she was gay. He was one of her only friends, besides Charlotte, who wasn’t involved in the automotive industry.
“What’s up?” she asked, noting the somber look on his face.
“I’ve got some bad news, Rose.”
Panic flooded her mind. She was afraid something had happened to Charlotte.
“Your father is dead.”
Rose felt a sense of elation, followed by guilt. While she didn’t think much of her father, she didn’t mean to downplay his death. She was just happy it wasn’t her girlfriend. “What happened?” she asked calmly.
“Single-vehicle drunk driving accident down in Florida.”
“Doesn’t surprise me. Anyone else hurt?”
“No.” The officer looked confused. “You don’t seem to upset.”
“Dan,” she started, “I haven’t seen my father in over six years. He ran off with some bimbo and stuck me with my mother.”
“Has she been told?”
“I have no idea. I haven’t seen her in three years. My family has a tendency to run off.”
Dan was stunned. “Well, I’m sorry anyway. Let me know if you need anything.”
“Thanks, but I’ll be okay.” At that moment, Charlotte’s little blue Volkswagon Beetle pulled up the drive. She approached Rose as Dan got back into his patrol car.
“What happened?” she asked.
Rose recited the conversation, and Charlotte listened sympathetically. The blonde girl didn’t get all gushy like Dan had apparently been tempted to do. Charlotte was one of the few people who knew Rose’s family story, and she knew Rose wouldn’t be too devastated.
“So,” she continued, “what does it mean regarding the house?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t have a will or anything. But I’ve been the one paying taxes and paying bills here. I guess I’ll get a hold of a lawyer and see what I should do.” Rose was hesitant to ask the next question, but she knew she had to. “Do you think you could talk to your dad and see if there is anyone he would recommend?”
Charlotte understood the trepidation in her lover’s voice. Charlotte’s father was a judge, and would have lots of connections. It would be easier to ask her mother, a defense lawyer, but Rose would rather crawl across a bed of broken glass before asking for help from Mrs. Webb. Charlotte promised she would ask.
“Want to go bowling or something? I figure you aren’t much in the mood for our other favorite activity?”
Rose smiled. The girl may have a one-track mind, but she was at least willing to stop the train every now and then. “Actually, let’s just get some groceries and stay in tonight. Maybe watch “CSI” or something.”
And that is exactly what they did. The two of them curled up on the floor in front of the television with a bag of heavily buttered popcorn and some sodas and watched their shows. Charlotte actually decided not to stay the night. Her father left for work early in the morning, so it would be easier to catch him if she slept in her own bedroom. Rose missed the presence of her body that night, but knew it was the best course of action.