Designer, Dinner, Drinks (attn: Meegan)
Connie had pushed all thoughts of work out of her mind as she drove to the Marina. Her plan to aim towards the docks and follow the signs had been a wonderful one; the lack of signs made it not-so.
Windows closed, music loud, Connie grumbled to herself for just a few moments more as she waited the light in front of the Marina's driveway. Red lights and Connie just didn't seem to get along lately.
"How could they not have signs? It's not like someone would want to go looking for the Marina just to blow it up or kidnap a boat, like in Speed 2 or whichever Police Academy that was.. Not to mention this damned red light..."
By the time the red light had changed, she'd vented all her frustrations at the steering wheel.
Pulling into the long arching driveway, she pulled up to the valet parking and slid out of her seat, grabbing the white shawl and a new white leather purse from her seat. Tipping the tall, hulking, wow-he-could-be-a-sailor valet man, she waited for him to pull away before crossing the road and climbing the stairs.
Flipping the shawl over her shoulders, she tucked her purse under her elbow and, reaching for the door, was nearly knocked over by someone wearing a dishwasher's uniform. Looking ahead through the door, a second form came charging out after the first, yelling things in some language she didn't bother to identify.
She stepped inside before the door closed. Adjusting her white, lacy cocktail dress from her hips to get the driving ridges out of her bottom, she strode purposefully to the greetings stand.
She cleared her throat for attention. "Connie Stone to join Ms. Meegan Masters."
The young blonde greeter checked his book and nodded, then looked up at her finally. His eyes almost popped out as Connie imagined him taking in her legs, waist, then bosom before finally reaching her face. She would have rolled her eyes but his attention was almost flattering, if teenage-hormonally charged. He was probably the son of someone who ran the club.
"Uh, yes, Ms. Stone, Ms. Masters has not arrived yet but you do have a table set aside. Would you care to be escorted to the table, or would you like to wait at the bar?"
Connie pondered briefly, then answered with a smile. "I'll wait at the bar for Ms. Masters, thank you."
The young man showed her in, around an artfully decorated wooden peninsula, to the bar proper. A low roof overhung the counter, but until Connie was about to lean on a stool she hadn't realized it was actually an overturned rowboat, varnished and cleaned up. Memories welled in her mind as she was approached by the bartender. "Seltzer with lime, please, I'm waiting for my companion to join me."
Smiling at the niceties spouted by the short-cropped young female bartender, she glanced around, taking in all the nautical decorations. Somewhat uncomfortable with her behind resting against the edge of the stool - even as tall as she was - she lifted her right foot gently to hook the heel of her white leather heeled shoe on the lowest support. After a moment, she realized that, were Meegan to approach her, she'd likely try to take a step with that foot to turn towards her, and would likely fall on her face or crush the designer beneath her. Instead, she unhooked her heel and rested the ball of her foot on the long brass rail just above the floor. Her hand worried at the small golden ship's wheel necklace dangling just below the hollow of her throat.
When her drink arrived, she sipped lightly from it.
She slid bare feet into a pair of matching satrapy open toe heels, grabbed her purse from the counter, and kissed Rachyl. She'd washed her face a applied a subtle make-up with just a gloss on her lips. Rachyl had called a limo for her while she was undressing, to Meegan's protests of "I can just take a cab." She thanked the driver, slid into the back and panted slightly as he pulled away from the curb.
they arrived at six forty, according to her little gold watch, and the driver opened her door and helped her out. She entered and was greeted by a young blonde that had trouble meeting her gaze.
"Meegan Masters, I have a reservation. has my other party arrived?"
"Yes Ms. Masters, she is in the bar, shall I get her for you?"
"No thank you, come after us in about five minutes to take us to the table."
"Yes, Ms. Masters, let me show you to the bar."
He set his pen carefully down and showed her to the bar. She saw Connie looking spectacular in white sitting, and crossed to her.
"A girl runs the risk of getting hit on in a dress like that." She cleared her throat and made her voice deeper. "Hey, baby, what's your sign?"
"Hello Meegan, I'm very happy that you invited me. You look rather delicious yourself. Sea foam goes great with your eyes, if I may say. Join me for a drink, please?" Connie waved her hand expansively and yet delicately across the bar.
The bartender approached with inane greeting. Meegan smiled at her, she was just excited to be out of the house and office for a change and decided she's start early and finish late and be drunk as a skunk when she poured herself into bed later.
"Hmm, let's go with an apple martini."
She turned back to Connie and gave her friends hand a pat.
"It's good to see you again. So how does this work, do we talk about the weather and then ease into current events and then move onto deep dark secrets or do we start with the secrets and end with the weather?"
She watched as Meegan dealt with the bartender's approach and listened to her order of an apple martini. She pondered a drink of her own, and when the bartender asked her if she'd like a refill, she replied, "Hmm. I'll have an apple cinnamon martini, please." She winked at Meegan, then smiled again at the hand-patting.
"You know, I'm not entirely sure. You threw me off by being the first person to actually hit on me and ask me my sign, so I used my first response and likely bypassed my second, which would have been 'do not enter'. I had had one specifically for you, but you well... caught me off guard." She shrugged. "Anyway, I don't think it matters what order we go in, as it's not so much the steps that are taken but the journey as a whole that matters. I think I have that same philosophy, or maybe over-arcing idea about life. It's certainly been interesting, the last ten months."
"Really? What's been happening over the last ten months, you know other than meeting a fantastic woman, throwing a great party, going to another great party and nearly getting blown up at another? What's so interesting about that?"
Meegan snickers and took a sip of her drink, cool crisp slightly sour liqueur swam on her tongue. Perfect.
She shrugged lightly, and sipped of her drink. "Wait, hang on, the accountant in me is saying 'that's not enough parties'... The Halloween ball, which was where I first met you, and you looked really good in that 40s dress, by the way, Nyra's party, the gala, and the Mayor's ball. I'm sorry we didn't get to see you much at that last, the wall of politicians was thicker than cold molasses in January. Nyra and I got pictures, though, and in fact I included that in her birthday present. You know she wouldn't tell me when it was? I found out accidentally when her mother called to see if she was doing anything special for it. You'd think she had an aversion to a number getting bigger or something." She took another sip of her 'tini; the cinnamon gave it a homey quality that she enjoyed. Giggling, she pointed out, "Besides, I'm the accountant in the relationship, I should be freaking out about numbers, not her!"
"Birthdays get harder every year. The closer I get to thirty the more I realize I've not done everything I wanted to as a young twenty-something about town." She gave a small chuckle. "Don't worry about the Mayor's ball, I only saw two people I knew, and I had to eat asparagus. That and I'd just like to put that little horror-fest behind me."
She drank from her glass and the little blonde from the door that had trouble making eye contact came to lead them to their table. They were placed in a corner near the back of the restaurant, away from most of the other tables, it would afford both privacy and anonymity. Meegan thanked him, and slid into the half of the booth that put her back to the room.
"Rachyl and I are thinking of having a small little party in the next few weeks. Will you and Nyra be able to come?"
Meegan nearly choked on the sip of martini she's put in her mouth, when her dirty little mind made a double entendre out of that.
The layout of the restaurant afforded more privacy than Connie expected, and their table was very alone. Then again, she and Meegan were the only female couple to have been seated... so far.
Noting the choked look on Meegan's face, Connie bit back a giggle. The double entendre had been quite funny, though she didn't imagine Meegan would actually plan such a party. Or would she? "Ooooh, a party! At Castle de Meegan? That sounds wonderful. Just let me know the date and time and we'll be there! Would there be any special theme or anything? You know Saint Patty's Day is coming up in a few weeks, but I'm nowhere near Irish. But then, everyone's Irish on Saint Patty's, aren't they?" She snickered and sipped again.
Meegan sipped from her cocktail and opened the menu. the fair here was mostly seafood, which was fine with Meegan, she was blowing her calorie count on the drinks. They had a Yellow Fin Tuna Nicoise that sounded really good. She'd switch to wine with her dinner and stick to water after her martini was done.
"Do you like bruscetta? They have one here with olives. Want to try it?"
Connie flushed, thinking that she might have overstepped her bounds as an unofficially invited invitee, not to mention that Rachyl might have made the same suggestions. She tried to hide her embarassment behind her glass. Then, as she swallowed an overlarge mouthful of the spicy sweet concoction, she realized she needn't be embarassed for caring about her lover's well-being.
"I don't remember the last time I had decent bruscetta... that sounds like a delectable treat. The rest of the meal, though, I'm not too certain of... Perhaps a bowl of creamy lobster bisque?" She perused the menu again. "The blackened halibut with summer pea puree... is out of season. Figures."
She glared at the menu, then raised a smiling eye to Meegan. "For some reason the last few weeks I've been in a summer frame of mind. And it's barely spring." She was eyeing another fresh halibut offering - grilled halibut over corn and asparagus with dressing - and wondered what the day's specials were. "Come to think of it, looking at this menu, I haven't had a non-vegan meal since... Uhm..."
Blankness filled her face as she tried to remember. "Well, before I met Nyra, anyway." And no, weekly vampire feedings didn't count.
The waiter came over, a young man with dark hair that fell in his eyes. "Good evening ladies, what can I start you off with this evening?"
Meegan smiled up at him. "Good evening. We'd like to start with the bruscetta and glasses of water for the both of us."
"Very good, and would either of you like a refill on your martinis?"
Meegan looked up at Connie and at her shake of her head no, answered for the both of them.
"No thank you, just the water."
"Alright, I'll be right back with your water and bruscetta."
The boy walked away and Meegan watched, just because she was in love with a woman didn't mean she was dead. She waggled her eyebrows at Connie and chuckled.
"So have you talked with Rachyl in the last few weeks?"
((OOc moved with permission))
Pursing her lips, she just shook her head at Meegan then smiled. "Oh, I've talked with her, yes, spent some time with her. And before you ask, no, I'm not telling you why. Anything that I assist her with will be revealed in good time." She winked mischievously. "What about you? Have you sat down and talked with her about stuff other than the house? Sometimes, I wonder if Nyra and I communicate enough. She's driving herself ill by trying to match my circadian rhythms, and I really wish she wouldn't. I hate seeing her ill, especially when it's my own fault. It sucks having a night job sometimes. But then, some habits are so deeply ingrained, they're almost personality quirks or biological problems. It's also hard saying 'you're doing too much for me' because I wouldn't know if she'd take that wrong or if she'd accept that I'm worried about her well-being. Sometimes I feel like I mother her... but then, she's an artist, and she does get a little... distracted now and again."
Connie blinked a couple times, then looked at the empty spot on their table where her water would go. She was about to resign herself to waiting when the waiter returned with two tall glasses, containing plenty of ice. With a smile and a wink, she thanked him, then sipped gently as he left.
"I don't know Connie, I think you just have to play it by ear, and go with your gut. I keep much longer hours than Rachyl, but then I've always been a bit of a night owl and have never gotten more than five hours in a night. Unless I'm drunk off my ass or I haven't slept in days."
She chuckled and sipped her water.
"I asked because Rachyl and I have some interesting news of our own, and I didn't know if she'd told you or not."
"I need to learn how to drive."
"I need to learn how not to be scared when I drive."
"I am learning how to drive!"
She shook her head at Meegan. "No, she hasn't told me anything of real consequence outside of moving into the new place and being really excited about something else, but she'd never say what. I think she was waiting for something."
"We're trying...I mean Rachyl's trying and I'm just sort of there. What I mean to say is...we want to have a baby and Rachyl's going to carry it." The words came out in a rush and Meegan's face turned crimson. She wasn't sure if she was more embarrassed by her words or how they'd come out.
Flushing from the sudden excitement, Connie stopped herself from rambling more by folding her hands together just below her chin, preventing her mouth from opening. She raised her eyebrows, eyes sparkly and impatient, waiting for Meegan to respond. Her hands unfolded and she reached out to the designer, taking her hand and squeezing it gently.
She sipped her water and moved down the list in her head of Connie's questions. "We're trying artificial insemination first and if that doesn't work IVF. There isn't much to do right now, but we're going to see if Nyra will paint the nursery for us. And I think it was the house. We both felt this need and I asked and she said yes and so now it's happening...wow, Connie. It's really happening.[/i]
Giggling at herself, she amended in her standard diction, "Those're lovely names though. It sounds like you put a lot of effort into finding ones that would fit both of you."
Beaming proudly at Meegan's mention of asking Nyra for her assistance, she observed, "I'm sure she'd be honored, though I won't tell her about your thinking of asking her. She's been under the weather lately and as much as I know she'd enjoy preparing for that opportunity, she'd overthink and undersleep."
She sipped of her own water and leaned forward. "Last I read, IVF has a significantly increased chance of multiples, even in couples who weren't genetically predisposed to have them. What'll happen if you have twins? Or triplets? Is Rachyl, uhm, solid enough? I mean, I've hugged her, and she's certainly a well-built woman, but will she be able to support two or more with her size?"
She blinked again as a thought occurred to her. "Tell me, though Meegan, and please, be honest, and know that nothing you say here will go beyond our little booth... Why her and not you? Or why not both of you, well outside of the whole both-partners-being-pregnant possibility just being insanity on wheels, but... I mean, if I could, have a baby that is, I'd carry it for Nyra, even though I think she'd make one sexy pregnant woman..."
Connie hoped she hadn't overstepped the sharing-conversation boundary, but then, she was curious and didn't know if that question had been asked.
"Do you want the God's honest truth or shall I give you the PC answer?" She grinned and then frowned, she'd asked herself this very question. Though Rachyl had never faulted her for it, and she just seemed the natural choice between them. "Of course you want the truth." She sighed.
"Rachyl can take the whole physical part better than I can, I'm a great big wimp and being pregnant, and possibly not being able to regain my pre-pregnancy body could ultimately ruin my career. Being an openly gay woman is almost enough to do that. Add fat and scared and you have a recipe for disaster." Meegan blushed scarlet again, she really hoped Connie didn't think less of her. Well, by all rights she should, but Meegan could hope for understanding at best.
"Oh, I'd like a bowl of the creamy lobster bisque, a house salad, the grilled halibut over corn and asparagus with dressing, extra lemon and butter on the side, please."
She looked at Meegan at the same time the waiter did. She really must hold on to her train of thought before it derailed...