Page 165 of Nothing Above

Reece passes her a New York driver’s license from his wallet before frowning.

“I, uh…” He pulls out another card but keeps it. “I just noticed my credit card’s expired. Do you accept cash?”

The receptionist checks the ID for this James Jones before handing it right back.

“Cash works.”

Already removing bills, Reece starts stacking them on the counter.

“Much appreciated. Next, I’ll have you fill out this form.”

After scanning straight to the bottom, Reece says, “I can never remember my license plate number.”

“Um…”

My hands rubbing up and down my arms, I offer through chattering teeth, “Do you want me to go back out there and get it?”

“No, no. Stay in here where it’s warm. You two are the only ones staying here this weekend anyway, so make and model’s fine.”

While Reece fills out the paper, I look around the small, warm lobby. It smells like cedar and freshly baked cookies. There’s stuff everywhere—paintings, local festival posters, signs with nature sayings, rainbows. In addition to a mini fridge in the corner with drinks and yogurts, there’s a shelf of DVDs and an entire bookcase of board games renters can check out.

“What’s this one for?” Reece asks, his finger on one of the many bullet points listed.

“Oh, so we’re not only a female-owned business but queer-owned as well, and my wife and I just want to make sure we’re being respectful to all our guests by using folks’ pronouns correctly. It’s completely optional though. Please don’t feel pressured at all.”

My eyes find the numerous rainbows decorating the walls just as another woman pushes through the bead curtain.

“Are you two the owners?” I ask her.

“Guilty as charged,” she says with a smile at me, then her wife, before placing a plate of chocolate-chip cookies down in front of us.

They’re their own bosses, doing things their own way.

I’ve always been fascinated by orcas for many reasons, the main one being that although their pods have males in them, they’re female-led.

I do something I never do—

I dotwothings I never do. I grab a cookie, and I smile back, both actions making me feel…good.

“I identify as he and hers,” Reece says, drawing everybody’s attention back to him. “He,” he repeats before pointing at me, saying, “And hers.”

My lips relax again, and I roll my eyes.

“Oh, my heavens,” the woman behind the counter croons. “That is so—”

“Sweet?” I finish for her.

“Only for you,” Reece mouths to me.

With a shake of my head, I say, “And my pronouns are she and her—”

“Mine.” Catching me by my hips, Reece closes the gap to kiss me like a man possessed, leaving no room for argument.

When we separate, both women have misty eyes as they gaze between us.

“Remember our newlywed-phase, Diane?”

“Fondly.”

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