Page 16 of Hers for the Weekend

“Like, existentially?” Holly asked.

Tara laughed. “No, like, spiders, heights, talking animal animatronics…”

“That’s a very specific one.”

“They’re terrifying. Have you ever been in a Chuck E. Cheese?” Tara demanded. “And you’re not getting out of answering this question.”

Holly groaned, running her hands through her hair. “I don’t like eels.”

“Like, existentially?” Tara teased.

“Moray eels grow to ten feet long and attack people.” Holly shuddered. “Also, their mouths do not open in a natural way.”

Tara stared at her.

“I think I might have watched The Princess Bride too many times as a child.”

“That’s wild, you know that, right?” Tara turned Holly’s words around on her again.

Holly grinned. “I do know that.”

“When you were little, what did you want to be when you grew up?”

“Rich,” Holly said easily. “But I also wanted to work for Rosenstein’s because we lived near the home office, where the flagship store started, and it was a point of hometown pride. I thought if I worked there, I would get to eat all the hamantaschen I wanted.”

Tara nodded. “Sure. Some people dream of being rich in love, others of being rich in hat-shaped cookies.”

“Oh no, let me be very clear,” Holly said, pointing a fork full of goose at Tara, “I wanted to be rich in cash money. Because then I could buy hat-shaped cookies, and also, like, health insurance.”

There was a time in Tara’s life when she would have told Holly that being rich was overrated. When she was young, and desperate to be anything her parents weren’t. When she was at boarding school her senior year with a bunch of senators’ daughters. When, her first year out of law school, she’d been a divorce attorney for her parents’ friends, watching them tear each other to shreds over who got which vacation home.

Having spent years in the criminal justice system and working closely with prison reform activists, she would never, ever say that now.

The B&B owner, Barb, bustled over to make sure they were enjoying their meal. She was round and glowing, a mother from a Renoir painting come to life. Her radiant smile when Tara praised the goose made Tara feel guilty about how harshly she’d been judging the decor. Perhaps this floral fantasia brought her great peace.

“I’m so glad you girls called me to stay. I don’t know why you asked for two bedrooms, though. You look at each other the way my Dotty used to watch me when we were courting.”

“You never know,” Holly said gently, before Tara could object, “when you’ll need to keep up appearances. For safety.”

Barb nodded gravely. “Back when we were meeting with the Daughters of Bilitis, we thought by now the young girls would be able to woo each other in public, but for all the rainbows in the Targets, it’s dangerous as hell out there. Still, as long as you’re here, you don’t have to hide. You know that, Holly. You were here when Dotty was still alive.”

“I was so sorry to hear of her passing,” Holly said softly, reaching out to squeeze Barb’s arm. “She was a force.”

Barb nodded. “I miss her every day. Although, you’ll notice now that she’s gone, I’m able to decorate this place the way I always wanted to.”

Holly grinned. “I like it. And I’m glad to hear we can indulge in a little PDA while we’re here.” She leaned over and kissed Tara. It was a peck, the most fleeting glance of lips against lips, but the touch electrified Tara down to her toes. Barb smiled at them indulgently.

“I’m so interested in your time with the Daughters of Bilitis,” Tara choked out, trying to seem cool even while her whole body was on fire. “Will you tell me a little about it?”

The Daughters of Bilitis was a lesbian organization founded in the fifties that had played a huge role in the early gay rights movement.

“Well, you know, Phyllis and Del…” Barb started, and Tara settled in, because she actually was deeply fascinated by that time in queer history, when the movement had been split between people who wanted to appear respectable to get access to rights and revolutionaries who wanted queer liberation.

Tara often felt that she, herself, was torn in two by those opposing instincts.

After dinner, they had intended to take a walk, but the temperature plummeted fast, keeping them inside. It was going to begin snowing tomorrow, so they’d have to get out of Maryland early if they wanted to stay ahead of the storm. Otherwise, they would be spending Christmas here with Barb instead of at Carrigan’s.

As Tara carefully applied her series of serums, Holly stood in the bathroom door, watching her.

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