Chapter 13
Dear Diary, It's been pretty melancholy around here, as you might imagine. It's hard to say good-bye to Josette and Deke, harder still not to feel like a real ingrate for bailing out on Lars. But, I have accomplished what I set out to do so many, many years ago: be a dancer, be a "star" (whatever that means). My family is over the moon about me coming home. Frankly, I miss them all so much, more than I think I'll ever miss Manhattan.
But it took me being here to realize that. If I'd never come because I was afraid or intimidated by "the city that never sleeps," how would I ever have known what living here was like? I'm sure one day I'll be back. But it will be as a tourist, with my husband and kids at my side, staying in some really nice hotel like the Waldorf or the Plaza. Okay, okay, those places are on the pricey side. I'd settle for a Holiday Inn.
The question gnawing at me now is: Will Freddy be the "husband" in my fantasies? I hurt him so badly, he many never speak to me again. Who could blame him? I behaved abominably, and I'm ashamed of what I said and did to him while he was here. Especially sexually, which has never been a problem with us-I even denied him access to my pussy. Talk about a man feeling the ultimate kind of rejection! I'll never forget the look on his face the last time I saw him before he went back to Dayton-a look that said: Sally Ann, you've hurt me for the last time-the very last time. I mean, this from a man who wanted to marry me, who'd already given me an engagement ring. And what did he get? Booted out of New York by yours truly.
Living here-however briefly-was made special by people like Billy, James, Jean-Claude, and especially Emmett. One day, if there's any justice left in this crazy world, he'll be rewarded for his act of kindness. I called him to tell him I was going home, back to Dayton, and he actually started crying. "Sally Ann," he said, "it'd been so long since I'd been with a woman sexually. But, in addition to liking you as a friend, I am attracted to you-strongly attracted to you-physically. Believe it or not, you make me question my sexual preferences. I know I'll always be gay. Can't stop cruising those cuties on Christopher Street. But, if you 're ever back in Manhattan and you want a hot date for the night, please call me first. I realize, though, you've probably got a very long waiting list."
As it turned out, this was the last entry in Sally Ann's New York diary. After she'd flown back to Dayton (no more train sex for her, thank you) and saw her family waiting for her-their faces beaming-Sally Ann could only think, to borrow the classic line from The Wizard of Oz: "There's no place like home."
"Dear, you look pale," her mother said, giving her a top-to-bottom appraisal.
"I've really been working hard, Mother," Sally Ann replied truthfully. "Film production was a completely new world for me, and it demanded nonstop vigilance on my part, since Lars, the director, appointed me dance captain. Some days, we'd work ten or twelve hours."
"Well, then, Sally Ann, no wonder you look so tired."
Her kid sister, Rita, who'd secretly wished she could one day go to New York, too-to pursue a career in fashion design-couldn't resist a little dig. "You've lost weight, Sally Ann. I know you always felt you were too filled-out to be a ballet dancer, so maybe the movie helped you reduce your weight."
Sally Ann's mother, father, and sister helped her with her bags. Surprisingly, while packing her things, Sally Ann realized she had very little material things to show for her stay in New York. Consequently, no one had to struggle with excessive luggage.
The drive home from Cleveland Hopkins airport to Dayton really opened up Sally Ann's eyes. It was almost as if she'd never seen the place before-or appreciated its pastoral pleasures as much. It was a warm, sunny afternoon. Even on the standard asphalt highway, as houses, trees, and, finally, Dayton itself came into view, Sally Ann felt her heart beating wildly.
"You know, sis," Rita said, "you never even told us what the title of the movie is."
Immediately, Sally Ann sensed danger-the kind of danger she'd intuited the near-fateful night Lilac Veracruz had gotten her drunk enough to tie her to the bed and film one humiliating act after another. Again, Emmett flashed through her mind. If it wasn't for him.. . .
Sally Ann abruptly was brought back to reality.
"Yeah," Mrs. Gardner agreed with her younger daughter. "Is it some kind of foreign film? Lars.. .isn't that a German name? And-what's her name-that Veracruz actress, her name sounds South American or Dominican."
"Sounds Cuban to me," Rita said.
Mr. Gardner, who'd remained rather quiet throughout the drive from Cleveland to Dayton, piped: "Well, Sally Ann, despite your efforts to keep this movie's title a secret, one day I ran into your former ballet teacher, Miss Farrell."
Sally Ann flashbacked to their torrid, student-teacher, cunt-lapping farewell. People always assume we Midwesterners are so uptight and prudish. No other woman ever ate me out like Miss Farrell-not even Josette or Vicky. Miss Farrell has a tongue like a snake, and it slithers into all the right places. Yeah, that "farewell fuck" was just what I needed to prepare for New York City. At least, as much as one can prepare oneself for such an "anything goes " city.
Her father continued his story. "She asked me how you were doing in New York. She really cares about your welfare, Sally Ann.
"I know, Dad. I've always liked that about her. She's genuinely a nice woman. It's just that, especially now, she prefers to spend the holidays in her "cottage" in Vermont. Who wouldn't? like I said, she's a real sweetheart."
"Not too many of them left, huh, Trudy?" Mr. Gardner cajoled his wife of nearly twenty-five years. She fired back playfully.
"Well, like they say, behind every good man, stands a good woman. You've kept me very happy through the years, Clyde."
Mr. Gardner, "Clyde"-a name he'd always hated after he learned his parents named him after the Budweiser Clydesdale horses. Growing up, Clyde relentlessly was teased about his name. When Trudy became pregnant with Sally Ann, then, a few years later, with her sister Rita, both Trudy and Clyde agreed to keep their names as generic as possible. No imagine nom de guerres for their little girls.
But, truth be told, what really kept their marriage alive and kicking after a quarter of a century was fucking. Even at their advanced ages, Trudy and Clyde continued to have sex at least three to four times a week-and it wasn't because one of them was "accommodating" the other.
Just the evening before, Trudy and Clyde had decided to experiment with sex toys, something that had had stigmas and taboos in Dayton attached to them not so long ago. Only a few years ago, in fact, an adult video, book, magazine and "marital aid" store called "Private Pleasures" was closed when the religious right-Dayton, like most of the other cities in Ohio, is zealously Republican-successfully marched with their placards, yelling in unison: '"Private Pleasures' is a public nuisance. The store closed the next day. After extensive renovation, "Private Pleasures" was remade into a Gap.
But that didn't stop Trudy and Clyde from viewing the videos and magazines they'd purchased before "Private Pleasures" closed.
"Wow, look how high he's got that young lady's legs spread apart," Clyde remarked, feeling his cock bloating into a super-hard erection."
"Why don't we try it?" Trudy gamely suggested, her right hand already under her dress, toying with her pussy through her pink lace panties.
That was all it took. The next thing she knew, Trudy was getting a tongue lashing she'd never forget. Clyde never had devoured her cunt juices as he did that night. His jaw and chin were wet with Trudy's nectar.
The secret of a successful marriage? Sex, sex, and more sex!
"All right, Dad, give me the low down," Sally Ann insisted. "What's the film's name? And how much do you know about it?"
"Only that it's called Naughty in New York-I like that title-and it's some kind of artsy-fartsy movie that'll probably never come to Dayton."
Mrs. Gardner observed Sally Ann once again. Yes, there was no question her older daughter had become much more sophisticated and worldly during her stay in Manhattan. She sighed enviously, wishing she 'd had the backbone to take such a bold risk. Sally Ann, Trudy believed, didn't get her role by accident. Trudy knew her all-grown-up Sally Ann had blossomed into a woman of independent means. It might have happened to me, if only I'd.. .
Later that evening, Sally Ann crept into Rita's room. It was still painted bubble-gum pink, still had Jon Bon Jovi's posters on the wall, right next to Brad Pitt's.
"I wanna get out of here, too," Rita told her sister. "I don't want to go to New York anymore. I just want to find my own apartment, a good job, meet someone and settle down."
"Is there a special someone?"
Sally Ann, I never told you this when we were kids growing up in this house, because.. .because I was ashamed."
"Ashamed? Ashamed of what?"
"Of.. . of.. . "
"Just spit it out, Rita. I'd be the last person to judge you. And you obviously have something important to tell me. Fire away, sweetheart."
"I'm a lesbian, Sally Ann. "I don't think Mom and Dad know yet, but they suspect something's 'different' about me. I don't date. I have my female friends, and another special friend, Roger, but he's gay, too. Actually, I've found out that there are a lot of gay people living in Dayton. It's like this little underground community."
Sally Ann gave Rita a big bear hug. "Oh, Rita, Rita, Rita. What are we gonna do about you? You'd be a catch for any woman you want. By the way, are you seeing anyone? Or, at least, are there any possibilities?"
"No and no. I'm just no good at picking up women in lesbian bars."
"Honey, it will happen when you least expect it to. I can tell you that from my own experiences. Just live your life one day at a time with no lofty expectations. It could happen at your gym, while you're studying in the library. Just like it happened with Miss Farrell and me in her dance studio, right before I left to go to New York."
Now it was Rita's turned to be surprised. "You and Miss Farrell? I'd never, ever, in a million years think she was a lesbian."
"She's not exclusively gay, Rita. She also fucks guys."
"Crazy world, ain't it?"
"Getting crazier by the minute. Rita, can we change the subject just for a sec? There's a, um, piece of outstanding business-a reconciliation, actually, that I, uh.. . "
"Yes, Sally Ann. Freddy's been waiting for you ever since he found out you were coming back to Dayton. He bought a little house with that white picket fence you two were always fantasizing about-a house on the outskirts of town."
Sally Ann began to get teary-eyed. He's waited for me to come back to him. Even after I mistreated him in New York, he's forgiven me. That's the kind of man I want to share my life, have a couple of kids with and enjoy life's simple pleasures.
"So what are you waiting for, a courier to deliver your invitation?" Rita laughed.
"Huh?" Sally Ann was dumbfounded. "What's going on?"
"Get dressed in one of your swanky New York frocks and get in the car. I'm personally dropping you off at Freddy's door. He was afraid you might get cold feet and back out on the lovely dinner he's been slaving away at-just you and Freddy.. .all night."
Sally Ann was weak-kneed as Rita pulled into the driveway of Freddy's house. It was just as Rita had described it. Small, but charming. Rita rang the doorbell. Freddy, who must have been waiting at the door, opened it and exhaled deeply.
"I wasn't sure you'd come," he told Sally Ann. "Boy, howdy, you look good enough to eat, honey."
"Why don't you save the 'eating out' part for later?" Rita, who couldn't resist a double entendre, piped.
Sally Ann blushed furiously, feeling her pussy getting wet, melting like molten lava even before she and Freddy had had a chance to settle in and catch up.
"Well, I've got a hot date tonight, too," Rita said. "Sorry, but I must be going."
"What time are you going to pick me up?" Sally Ann asked her.
Freddy laughed again, bursting with happiness. Sally Ann was getting more and more confused by the minute.
"What's so funny?"
"I'll chauffeur you home in the morning, Sally Ann." She noted his fat pecker, hard and running down the left side of his trousers. "If, in fact, you want to leave."
She fell into his arms as Freddy hugged her tightly. This was their night; he would make it a night she'd never forget.
"Let's not talk about New York and the movie and the big shots, okay? Let's talk about us."
"Okay. But if we talk too much, we'll never get around to dessert."
"And you're one piece of cherry pie I'm gonna chow down on all night, Sally Ann. Quite a sweet piece of cherry pie."
I'm home. Thank you, God. I'm finally home!