Bus Ride Home (invitation)

Journal Entry.

I didn't expect to find myself back on a bus. Well that's not true, after all I did use a bus for how many months to get around in Nachton. But I didn't expect to be on this bus, headed back to Philly, with a secondary ticket to go to Millville. Part of me wishes Meegan was sitting in the seat next to me, instead of this nun (Sister Mary Padua). But I know she's right - she does tend to be rather often. It's a disgusting habit! Truthfully I find it endearing. We do need time away from each other. I wish I'd been able to get a hold of Nyra, but Connie's right, she does need her sleep.

Gonna close up journalizing for a while, maybe read some of my book. I wish I'd worn something a bit more Gothic-Ah, because then between that and my book, I could really have a little fun with the nun.

Ah well.

The nun kept looking at Rachyl as she read the book, giggling and gasping, laughing and exclaiming "oh no!". A thought that likely crossed her mind was "Either this girl is insane or deliberately trying to get a rise out of me." Rachyl didn't care either way. The book was -funny-. The main character, Lucern, reminded her so much of herself (minus the whole vampire part.) Clutzy, hapless... Human. Then again, Rachyl also saw some of herself in the main romantic interest, Kate. Headstrong yet needing to be loved.

All the talk about food in the current chapter of the novel, though, helped cause her own stomach begin to growl. At a chapter stopping point, she checked her cellphone and noted it was after noon. Digging under her seat she unwrapped her hoagie and began to eat. Turning to her seat companion before her first bite, she said, "Would you like some?" but the sister declined graciously.

Rachyl's prediction turned out to be true - the hoagie roll sucked.

After her messy meal, cleaned up with a babywipe from her purse, Rachyl asked the sister if either of them could find out how much longer the trip would take. "Couple-a hours" was the response, so Rachyl sat back with her book while the sister watched their busmates.

Journal Entry.

As much as I would like Meegan to read this book... I don't think it's a good idea. Not very soon, anyway. I guess I could put it on one of the bookshelves at home, once we get some more content there, but for the meantime I'll leave it in my overnight bag. I know she'd get a laugh, but... I'm worried about the effect reading about a male vampire-human female relationship would have on her.

My gut feeling, though, as well as my intuition and my intimate knowledge of my lover, says that she wouldn't have too big of an issue. But I also don't want to go digging a knife into recently closed wounds. Healed or not.

I will admit, I've been imagining what I might find when I get home (the last word has been scratched out) back to Millville. I do know one thing - Mom is not dead. My lawyer would have contacted me immediately if that were the case.

Will I find her to be a destitute drunkard? A washed up drug addict? Or just a depressed, alone woman who misses her daughter?

I do hope she's not depressed. Or a drunkard or druggie.

The bus stop in Philadelphia's 30th Street Station was a welcome one.

Rachyl stretched as she exited the bus. A half hour stopover wasn't a whole lot - enough time to pitstop and grab a sandwich - but the ride to Millville was much shorter and her posterior wouldn't be on the verge of a coma. Even as she walked down the steps, bag of trash and purse in hand, she felt her bottom tingling with renewed bloodflow. And her belly sloshing with liquidity. Pressure low in her belly - not the wonderful kind Meegan could engender, but the kind that shouted "bladder's full!" directed her immediately to the ladies' room to freshen up.

As she exited, the wafting scent of a hotdog vendor tickled her nose. She followed it. "Dog with kraut, can of Sprite." Four fifty! If her mouth had been full she'd have choked. Nonetheless, she paid it. Highway robbery! Even in Manhattan corner dog vendors with just about every topping were only three bucks for dog and soda.

Then again, the vendor probably had to pay for electricity use as well as water hookup. But Philly water wasn't exactly something you'd want to cook hotdogs in...

Rachyl shut down that train of thought, found a place to sit, and bit into her supper. She estimated on an hour's drive to Millville, so grabbed a couple papers - the Philadelphia Inquirer, Philadelphia Daily News, and the last copy of yesterday's Courier Post. And a fresh bottle of tea. She was honestly surprised with herself that she'd drank the half gallon of Wawa tea on the trip. No wonder she'd been sloshing.

Journal Entry.

The work they've done on Route 55 is... uninspired. So what if they lengthened the lanes to get onto and off the highway... They really need to ADD lanes. But that makes too much sense. Why make morning rush hour easier? More expeditious? Less trafficjammish? Then again, I don't have to worry about it much. Not only do I not have to pay NJ taxes anymore, I don't have to drive it, either.
Well, not that I drive at all, really...

So little has happened that is any different than a year ago. No big changes. No life-altering, or even way-of-life-altering, changes in the Oil and Petrochemical Refinery State.

Okay I feel bad now, I woke up my seatmate laughing at myself. Thankfully I don't snort quite as loudly as Gracie Lou Freebush, but I can if the joke is just right. But you know that. The daggereyes I'm getting from this younger woman are just bouncing off. I wonder if she realizes she's not bothering me. Not with more metal on her face than Dr. Doom from Fantastic Four. Further thankfully, the sky is clear, so there's not much danger of me being zapped by lightning with Ms. Lightningrod sitting next to me.

If it were warmer, I'd have brought my ... bike. Oh, great, what did I do with my bike?

Oh, right, I left it locked in Meegan's office, since the folks at the Piazza wouldn't store it for me, let alone let me take it up to the Suite. It's not like I'd ride it around, really. Well I might be tempted. Anyway. I miss riding my bike places. Maybe I can convince Meegan to get one and we can go riding together. The neighborhood is nice enough, after all.

Except for the Twilight Zone silence of it.

The collision of the warm, heated air of the bus and the warm, unseasonal weather of Millville shocked Rachyl so much as she alighted from the bus that she sneezed. Repeatedly. Six times. Thankfully, they were dry sneezes, and she didn't need to worry about a tissue. Hoisting her overnight bag, purse, and dumping her trash into a nearby receptacle, she picked up a courtesy phone and called a cab. She tried calling her Mom in the ensuing ten minutes, to say "Mom I'm on my way home, I hope you're there..." but got only voicemail.

The cab to her house was cheap enough; only seven bucks. She gave the cabbie a twenty. "Might as well make someone's day," she thought, still curious about how her mother would react when she walked in.

An extra car in the driveway - a silver Lexus - was unfamiliar to her, but she figured Mom was entertaining a client. The living room and kitchen lights were both on.

After rooting around in her purse for her doorkey for a moment, she pulled the two keys on the larger keyring out and slid the first into the front door's deadbolt. Unlocking the handle itself, she pushed the door open - which strangely didn't make its usual "thunk-sigh" noise it used to. Then again, when she left, it -had- been summer, and humid, and hot. And now it was winter, and dry, and warm. So maybe she just hadn't payed enough attention to the noises the door made when she went in and out?

Very likely.

Rachyl set her overnight bag and purse near the front door, and hung her jacket on the handle of the closet just behind. The kitchen and living room were both empty, but the TV was on. Rather, the TV was showing the end of a DVD movie, with just the blue words-on black premenu screen visible. "DVD Movie, Please Press Play." The silence in the house was deafening. Rachyl took a few steps towards her bedroom out of decade-old-habit when she heard it.

The sound of a woman in ecstasy.

It was not a sound she was unfamiliar with, after all; she just wasn't so used to hearing it in her home. In the house she lived in while in Millville, that is.

The thought that said "that can't be my Mom" was overridden by the "I'm going to go sit in the living room and make absolutely sure I don't press play on the DVD player" thought. She followed the second, and just a few heartbeats later was reclining on the couch. She quietly chanted to herself, "this isn't home anymore, Mom's a grown woman, she can do whatever she wants. Whomever she wants." It was at that moment she decided to turn off the DVD player. The brightness of the HBO logo on screen signifying the start of a movie highlighted something under the coffee table...

A shirt of some sort and what looked like a bra cup and strap.

Almost disgusted, but mostly wishing she hadn't seen it, Rachyl crossed her right ankle over her left knee and blocked it from her vision. She focused on the TV screen - "Isn't it bigger than I remember? Or am I used to the tiny one Meegan picked up for the interim til we get ours?" - and had almost tuned out the rest of the house with the beginning of Ocean's Twelve.

At least until a squeaking floorboard alerted her to someone's presence. Rachyl's head whipped around. She focused on the source. The indirect light from the kitchen and TV highlighted an attractive if plump older woman wearing nothing but a leather harness around her lower body and nipple clamps on her upper. Her almost familiar voice called, "Renee, your daughter's home."

And the ensuing response from deep in the house, "OH, SHIT! Untie me!" made Rachyl want to both vomit and run screaming into the evening.

Journal Entry.

I had always guessed my Mom had been sexually active after Dad had left. I guess I never really found the need to accept it, especially since I never came face to face with its full frontal glory like I did tonight.

Rather, Mrs. Spelner's full frontal glory, with strap-on (minus the "on" part, oh alright, minus the dildo) and nipple clamps... I really need to not think about it, but now that I look back on it, it could eventually be righteously hilarious.

Meegan might even get a laugh out of it.

But for the first hour, I was petrified, embarassed, nervous and I really, really didn't want to be there.

It took the two women a full fifteen minutes to find their clothing.

Meanwhile, Rachyl made tea. The tea pot was new. It even looked like one of those she and Meegan had been considering for their own home. Renee's house had never been extravagant, but it was well furnished, tastefully appointed, and definately clean. High technology had never been one of her fortes... so maybe it was Mrs. Spelner's influence? Rachyl didn't want to delve so deeply into their relationship so quickly.

At one point, due to a few missing articles of clothing and huffed questions of "Well you took it off me, where is it?" Rachyl even leaned under the coffee table in the living room to offer up the shirt and bra she'd seen.

Finally the three were seated at the kitchen table.

"Rachyl, you remember Mrs. Spelner."

"Denise, please, Rachyl. You've been an adult quite some time and, well, you're a bit more intimate with me than you were a few years ago." Rachyl had met Denise Spelner after her husband had been found dead in a huge mansion on the edge of town. He'd been missing for months. It was only through a freak accident (and a little bit of high-school prank-style trespassing) that his body was found. Mrs. Spelner had become fast friends of Renee Walker's. Especially after the mansion had been razed, the property sold off, and the new high school built on its grounds.

"Could we please not comment on the whole 'I saw my Mom's lover nude' part of my homecoming? Please?"

"If you're trying to say you can't handle it, Rachyl-"

"It's not that I can't handle it Mom. I don't want to talk about it. Not yet. I've been back in Millville for a whole forty minutes or so. Twenty five to get a cab here, and fifteen for you two to get dressed. So, you're dressed. If you like, I could go outside the front door and knock and say 'Hi Mom I'm home!' and you could greet me with big hugs and air kisses. Or, we could just sit here, letting the embarassment of the last twenty minutes evaporate before our tea cools."

Thankfully, Renee and Denise were silent as they sipped their tea. For a few moments.

Then, Renee asked, "What kind of tea is this, Rachyl?"

"Earl Grey. I've gotten kind of addicted to it in the last few months."

"Speaking of the last few months, Rachyl..." That motherly imperious tone colored her voice as she asked, "Where have you been?"

Again thankfully, the righteous ire a mother could employ was not brought to bear. Renee could have said, Rachyl realized, something like "Where in the name of Hell have you been?" or "where on God's Green Earth" or any other number of expletive-laden questions. But she summed it up quite succinctly in four words.

"I took the bus to Nachton, Mother. It was the cheapest ticket on the shortest notice. I'm sure you got my letters and voicemails, and I know you got your Christmas present. I won't be here for your birthday though, Mother," she said, forestalling any possible questions of whether she was staying or not. "I'm going back home tomorrow."

"Home?"

"Yes, Mother, home. I've made a life for myself there. I have a well paying job. I have a home. I have friends." She imagined the two wouldn't mind her revelation. "I have a lover."

Two voices at once: "What's her name?" "What's his name?" They looked at each other, then back to Rachyl. "What's he/she like? Do? Come on, tell us!"

Rachyl gave a very brief description of Meegan, leaving out the "boss" part.

"She sounds like a wonderful woman, Rachyl," Denise said.

"She is."

"She'd have to be, if you're going back to that stinky city to spend your life with her." Renee had never been a fan of urban life.

"It's not so stinky, Mother. Nachton is a port city, and deals mostly in high tech industry. It's quite like Denver, minus the snow, or Austin, minus the heat, but near water."

"You never did like the summer heat much."

"Exactly, so could you imagine me in Austin? No. Nachton is a great place, and I'm doing wonderfully for myself. I just needed to get away for a couple days, and decided to visit you." Rachyl hoped her subtle hint of "you might not have been my first choice" stayed subtle.

"You mean to say visiting your own mother wasn't your first choice?" Of course, as Rachyl's mother, Renee caught on immediately. Denise laid a comforting - or was it restraining - hand on Renee's arm.

"I met one girl in town after my first month who unfortunately had to move back home due to her own mother becoming gravely ill. So I might have visited her. I might even consider visiting her after I visit you. But no, mother, you were definately my first choice. I just..." She glanced at Denise, then her mother, then back to Denise. A smile widened on her face, then she sipped from her tea. "I just wasn't prepared for this eventuality. Almost all others I could have imagined - even finding you in bed with a man - but not this. I think I adapted quite quickly, though, and am glad to have had met you again, Denise." Rachyl smiled sincerely. Setting her tea down, she continued, "Though you really should answer your phone, Mother. I called to let you know I was coming and was hoping to prevent... this sort of occurrence."

"Well, Rachyl, you see, at the time you called - I even heard my phone ring - I was..." Renee's cheeks colored as she glanced at Denise. "I was doing to Denise what Denise was doing to me when you arrived."

Rachyl was glad she'd set her tea down. Or she might have been wearing it.

Journal Entry.

I suppose that, once I get home, my trip back to Millville will be summed up with three succinct words:

Too Much Information.

I didn't really need to find out what it was my Mom does with her lover... But I did.
I didn't really need to hear them going at it again while I slept on the couch, as far away from their bedroom as possible... But I did.
I didn't need Denise to tell me that I was a better kisser than my own Mother... But she did.

Silence was a blessing, Rachyl discovered, waking the next morning. She'd stopped counting how many times she'd been woken up during the night by cries of rapture or other... sudden expletives.

"What do you mean you can't fucking find it?" "I mean I was just putting it in and... Oh here it is."

Rachyl wished she had earphones - she must remember to buy an iPod before coming back again - or something to block out the sound. Perhaps it was the weirdness of the whole situation, or the sound of a lamp shattering that had first woken her up... But the tiniest little sound kept her drifting in and out of consciousness all night.

It was with heavy lids, though, that she found herself in the bathroom showering, futzing with mangled hair (those couch pillows were horrible), and after brushing her teeth, suddenly found a taller woman pressing lips against her own. She was inclined to wait reactionless until the other woman realized what she was doing, but then she felt hands on her chest...

"Whoa! Stop!"

"Oh, Jesus! Rachyl! I thought you were your Mom! She wasn't in bed when I woke up and..." Denise stopped and realized that, not only was Rachyl fully clothed, and that her hands were on Rachyl's breasts, but that she herself was stark naked with bruises, welts, scratch marks, and certain dried secretions here and there on her skin. "I'm going back to the bedroom. Let me know when you're done."

Rachyl stood in shock, her posterior resting against the corner of the vanity in the bathroom. She closed her eyes a moment, and took a deep breath. "My Mom's lover did not just try to assault me. My Mom's lover did not just try to assault me. My Mom's lover is obviously befuddled by lack of sleep and the disgusting similarities between Mom and myself gave her very bad ideas."

To which the logical corner of her brain answered, "Your mother is six inches taller than you, has smaller breasts, and short cropped hair. She can't be that exhausted."

Rachyl peered in to the mirror, checking her lipstick, then straightened her shirt, fluffed her hair, and on the way to the living room called, "I'm done."

She busied herself by cleaning the living room, folding the sheets she'd confiscated to allow comfort on the sofa, and playing music from the TV radio stations somewhat loudly.

None of this, though, prevented her from hearing another bout of solo blissful cries from the bathroom. The radio got louder.

Twenty minutes later Renee returned carrying two bags of bagels and danish and a tray of steaming drinks. Breakfast was shared silently and slowly. Rachyl helped herself to a raisin bagel, lightly toasted with vegetable cream cheese, and a cherry danish. She decided she might stop for a sandwich on the way to the bus stop, but pushed the thought aside while the women chatted amiably and pointlessly.

The morning went by quickly - though, in some respects, Rachyl thought, not quickly enough - and Denise offered to give Rachyl a ride to the bus stop. Somewhat reluctant to accept, Renee practically pushed her daughter into the Lexus and gave her a kiss good bye. "I'd go with you to take you to the bus stop, but I have a... mess to clean up. Give me more than twenty minutes notice next time, dear, please."

"I will Mom. And you're both welcome to come visit. But there's one condition. You get a hotel room." Renee flushed mightily and nodded silently. Another kiss, a crushing hug, and her mother disappeared into the house.

Being alone with Denise wasn't so bad, when she wasn't naked, covered with dried sex, or trying to feel her up, Rachyl decided. They spoke briefly in the car allowing Rachyl to stay warm til her bus loaded. Family, friends, town, a bit more detail than had been offered at tea last night and at breakfast that morning.

When the first call for her bus went out, Rachyl thanked Denise and climbed out of the car, only to stop and turn when she heard her name. Denise walked quickly up to her, wrapped her arms around the shorter woman, and kissed her again.

Rachyl stayed passive. It was just... too weird. After a moment or two (truthfully she let it go to three) she disengaged herself. Denise hugged her, whispering, "You're a much better kisser than your mother."

Heebyjeebies running up and down her spine as Denise winked at her, she turned to the door to the terminal, but then turned back. She decided to have a little fun with her mother's lover. "Denise!" she called. When the other woman turned, she asserted, "Just imagine how it could have been if I'd been trying!"

Journal Entry.

I half wonder how many people heard or saw the interchange between Denise and myself. I mostly don't care. I will say though that it was an extremely odd experience to have my Mother's lover not only kiss me but feel me up in my old house, and then kiss me again in public.

Admittedly, she's not too bad a kisser, but if I'm better than my Mom... Okay that train of thought needs to be shut down and condemned, because I really don't need to be comparing myself to my mother. Not after this long of having had my own identity.

Maybe for Valentine's Day I'll give them some Gothic-Ah gift cards. How weird would that be? No, maybe I shouldn't. That just might cross the line of propriety. Especially for my own mother.

It is also probably best for me never to tell Mom that Denise kissed me. Meegan on the other hand would probably get a very hearty laugh out of it.

As I ran through the terminal to my bus, I picked up another book and a chicken sandwich, but I'm extremely tired. I slept poorly last night. I just hope that the walls in my new home with Meegan are more soundproof than those in Millville are. I'd hate to put out any of our guests if we were to make love while we had company. Altough, Meegan might forestall it, or I might, dependng on whom the visitors are. Well see. I wnder if we'll need to set some house ruless? Doubtful.

Anyway, I'm going to nap... I've ntoiced I'm spelling things wrong and need to get some sleep.

Time seemed to move slower, now that she was returning home.

Home. What a strange concept. Especially after visiting her old one. Had it truly been her "home"? Did she feel safe and secure there? "Probably yes," Rachyl admitted to herself. The more she pondered on it, the more her brain tried to follow a timeline of her last few years in Millville, to figure out where exactly it began to no longer feel "homey."

She forced herself to stop, though, because it just didn't do her any good to remember... past issues... Especially since her mother was not only not hating her, but glad to have seen her. And had a lover for whom she cared very much. Not to mention the fact that Rachyl herself was deeply in love with an amazing woman, with whom she'd just bought their first home! "And likely last, for as amazing as it is."

She gazed out the window, enjoying the sparkling sunlight off the Delaware River when a school bus drove by. Packed with kids, heads visible almost evenly across between the two buses, Rachyl thought, "Amazing for a first home, unless we run out of space for the kids."

The thought didn't even faze the redhead as she watched the bus of kids exit after the tollbooth.

She opened her journal and started writing.

Journal Entry.

I'm not sure when the idea first flashed into my mind.

Maybe it was when we were unwrapping presents on Christmas. Or maybe it was all the wonderful work we did with the Gala. (Not that I'm patting myself on the back, mind you. I think anyone who would have been able to do it, would have. We just got there first! MWahahahaha!)

Or maybe it was both. And then seeing the new home... And spending a couple nights in it, and decorating it, room by room... It might be interesting to have a little girl to play dolls with, or walk through the garden in the yard. Or even a boy to play catch with.

I wouldn't mind another dog, or maybe a cat. But we're not quite sure how Dill would react. Not to mention I'd just have to continue dropping hints about how often I enjoy fondling my pussy. Cat. Yeah. Exactly.

Of course I'm snickering to myself, now; thankfully I do not have a seatmate. The bus is actually strangely empty, compared to the two previous stints on my way to New Jersey. There's also a lot less people than there was when I first went to Nachton. I imagine that since it has been so cold the city hasn't been as popular a destination.

Not to mention the fact that there aren't any conventions scheduled until at least April. I'll have to see where this year's East Coast Realtors' Convention is... Maybe I could get Meegan or Nyra to go with me. Or both, plus Connie... after all it's usually at night.

I should have taken an extra day or two to stop to see ... No, come to think of it, there's not really anyone else in Jersey I wanted to visit. When I think of whom I should visit, I recall my real estate professor. I'm suddenly doubting myself and my career path; would my professor be happy that, since leaving NJ, I've become the assistant to a major fashion mogul, not to mention her lover and lifemate?

I think she would. Even discounting the fact she had told me a few times that I was the best student in her class.

Granted, I did make my fortune in Real Estate prior to leaving New Jersey. I just... accepted - no embraced (and kissed, nibbled, licked) - a better offer.

Somehow, the weather was a lot colder in Nachton than it had been in New Jersey when Rachyl stepped off her bus. It wasn't quite fair, she now realized, that New Jersey was having almost sixty-degree weather but it was still in the low 30s in Nachton. She knew it wouldn't last, though; mild Jersey winters tended to end with three foot blizzards.

When you're only five feet tall... walking through three feet of snow is like climbing a mountain.

She left herself a voicemail to remind either herself or Meegan to investigate a snow shoveling service. Landscapers would likely offer it, and she figured if they could get good prices they'd use it for all their landscaping. Thinking about the landscaping of their yard made her start craving a fresh Jersey tomato, but she knew Nachton's soil would not likely be able to grow the fruit to the same quality. "Certainly wouldn't hurt to try," she reasoned.

The cab ride seemed to take even longer than the bus ride.