Family Ties

And I mean, like, dominatrix women, with whips and chains and everything. Jesus, Paul… some of the stories I could tell you.”

“I can imagine. Maybe sometime…”

“Yeah, maybe. But Max… So, she must have recognized something about me.”

I laughed and quickly added, “Sara, anyone who’s spent five minutes with you knows you’re a dom.”

“I didn’t say ‘bitch.’ I said ‘dom.’ I’m the same way. I’m in charge and I know it. That’s probably why Daphne was attracted to each of us. And to the new guy. You said he’s a finance hotshot? Well, that’s pretty much a dominant personality.

You, me, him. You’re part of the club, sister. Gabba gabba hey.”

“I love the Ramones.” She laughed. “Bet you didn’t know that.”

“That you’re a Ramones fan? Doesn’t surprise me a bit. You’re a rebel too, like me.”

“You aren’t a rebel,” she protested. “You’re about as straight as they come.”

“Says the dom lesbian to the nudist swinger.”

“Oh, yeah. It’s easy to forget. You seem so… normal.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do. But I try not to judge people.

‘Normal’ is whatever makes you happy, as long as it doesn’t hurt anyone else.”

“Like some of the guys I’ve met. Which brings us back to Max and her friend.”

“Friend?” I tasted the word. It had a special flavor when Sara said it.

“Yeah. That’s the exciting part of the story.”

“My sentiments exactly.”

“So the friend’s new girlfriend has a daughter, about my age. The daughter is married, but her husband’s gay. She’s just a beard so his parents don’t find out.”

“Let me guess,” I laughed, “they were trying to set you up?”

“Right in one.

The daughter is a real sub type, like Daphne. ‘Needs a take-charge type,’ Max says.”

“Enter Sara,” I said, “take-charge type and getting out of a long-term relationship.”

“Right again. They don’t know about Daphne, though. So to them I’m just an unattached dom. But I’m a lipstick lesbian, not butch like a lot of women out here.”

“Yeah, and it’s kinda important to the story. It wouldn’t work with this woman if I was butch, ’cause her husband’s parents would figure it out real quick.

I mean, this is San Francisco, not St. Louis.”

“Ah, gotcha,” I said. “But since you’re a lipstick lesbian, she can pass you

off as just a ‘friend.’”

“You’re starting to figure this out,” she said with a grin in her voice.

“I still sense some hesitation, though.”

“The daughter’s really hot, and she’s totally my type, but…”

“Ah… I think I get it. You don’t want to get hurt again, like with Daphne.