The Roommate (Trixya)

Chapter Four: Medicinal Herbs

(Warning: Slight drug use in this chapter!)

"Dinner was delicious!" Trixie praised, pushing back her chair and collecting her and Katya's empty plates. "I think you might've gone a little heavy on the pepper, though."

Katya chuckled, popping a stray piece of yam into her mouth. "A little, yeah. I should have picked up some salsa on my way home too."

"You should have mentioned that!" Trixie cried, tying her pink apron around her waist before she set about loading their dishes into the dishwasher. "I make a mean pee-ko dee gay-oh!"

"How exotic," snorted Katya, getting up from her place at the table and returning the empty pan to the kitchen. Trixie took it from her and set it in the sink.

"Yes! I'm trying to learn Ess-pan-yol."

"It sounds like it's going well."

"Not quite, but I'm working on it," Trixie chattered, putting the spatula and pan into the dishwasher alongside the plates. "I can't let Kimberly get ahead in the culture department! You know she's from Idaho? Can you i-

Katya scooped up the pile of vegetable remnants from the counter and scanned the kitchen, interrupting Trixie with "Compost?"

Trixie frowned. "Compost?"

Katya sighed and nudged past the taller woman, bumping hips as she retrieved an unused garbage bag from beneath the sink and shook it open before scraping the yam skins and shallot roots inside. "Compost."

"Oh! Compost." Trixie beamed and took the garbage bag from Katya, stashing it back underneath the sink. "For your plants."

Katya nodded, and affectionate smile breezing across her face as she returned the chili powder to its home in the cupboard.

"What else are you here for? I'm sure there's plants in Boston too, anyway. Do you know anyone in Wisconsin?"

"I know you."

It was Trixie's turn to smile as she dropped a soap packet into the dishwasher and shut the door, turning on the machine. "I know. But why did you move here?"

Katya exhaled through her teeth, shrugging noncommittally. "No reason. Thought I might raise some bees."

"Bees?" Trixie yelped.

"-Or a goat or a pig," Katya placated with a laugh. "I just needed some space. Like I said."

Trixie nodded, still unsatisfied. "You can still write poetry out here."

"Maybe I'll try that." Katya nudged past Trixie again, hand grazing the small of the other woman's back as she retrieved a rag from the sink. Without another word, she set about wiping off the counters, tossing the rag back in the sink when she was done.

The women finished cleaning the kitchen in silence before Trixie retreated to the living room to try calling her son again. Katya glanced over her shoulder, hip resting against the edge of the pristine countertop, before pulling a dimebag from the back pocket of her overalls.

____________________________________________________________________________

Trixie, glasses halfway down the bridge of her nose and attention fixed on the keypad of the telephone, shuffled into the kitchen.

Katya, joint halfway to her lips, froze.

Trixie, unbothered, lifted her head and frowned, squinting at Katya.

"I thought I asked you to smoke those outside."

"It's not-" Katya sputtered, her ears flushing strawberry red.

"The patio's perfectly fine. Here-" 

Katya caught her arm as Trixie waltzed past her.

"It's not tobacco."

"Then what is it?" Trixie asked innocently, slipping off her glasses and tucking them into her apron.

"Herbs."

Trixie's blue eyes widened as slow realization dawned on her. "Drugs!"  she squeaked, the color draining from her face.

"No no no no no." Katya shook her head insistently, setting the joint down on the countertop. "Medicinal herbs. It's only drugs when a capitalist economy gets involved."

Katya's philosophy did little to calm a flustered Trixie who pulled her arm from Katya's grip and began punching numbers into the telephone.

Katya caught her hand and wrested the phone gently from her grip, setting it firmly on the counter. She squeezed Trixie's manicured fingers and offered her a smile. "Would you like to try some?"

Trixie huffed softly as Katya's blue-green gaze soothed her. She answered without hesitation: "Yes."

Katya laughed and released her hand, retrieving the joint from the counter and her lighter from the pocket of her overalls. "Have you ever-"

"No. Never."

"Okay. What about a cigarette?"

"Once. In college. Once."

Katya smiled and held the joint to Trixie's lips, flicking on her lighter. "Then it's like that. Inhale deep and hold it."

Trixie nodded and took the joint between her lips, letting Katya light it for her and inhaling deeply. She held the smoke in her lungs for a moment before exhaling with a cough. "Will this give me cancer?"

"No."

"Will I hallucinate?"

"No. It'll just relax you."

"What if I don't relax?"

Katya chuckled, taking her own drag from the joint. "You will. It just takes a second."

Trixie nodded, wiping her sweaty palms on her apron. She took the joint back from Katya, lighting it herself this time, and took another drag for good measure.

The women sat in silence, positioning themselves side by side on the kitchen island as twilight settled into the Wisconsin air. They passed the joint back and forth like college students until Trixie, smoke on her lips and eyes half-lidded, interrupted.

"Are my eyelids s'posed to vibrate?"

"That happens."

Trixie gave a short giggle and leaned sideways, her head settling on Katya's shoulder. The older woman smiled and tugged affectionately on a blonde curl.

"It's a shame your husband retired," she mused.

"What do you mean by that?" Trixie murmured, letting her eyes slide shut.

"I mean that you're pretty."

Trixie shifted beside her, clearing her throat. "In a real way or in a lesbian way?"

Katya frowned privately, letting Trixie's curl fall back into place. "I'm not sure what the difference is."

"Well, if a man called me pretty that would mean he liked me. And if a straight woman called me pretty that would mean she was jealous. But because you're a lesbian, I'm not sure what to think."

Katya tilted her head, eyes fixing on the peeling paint of the pink kitchen cabinets as she let silence float between them for several heartbeats before she broke it. "We should put on some music."

"I haven't got any music."

"Then we'll pretend."

Katya slid off the counter until her feet hit the linoleum. Trixie opened her eyes, a smile quirking the corner of her mouth as she watched Katya swaying in the silent kitchen.

Like they were in college.