Robbie & Jamie

Two - Lesbians!

Moments of peace were always welcome for Peter. His wife had left to visit their neighbours over an hour ago, eighties tunes blared from the radio in the kitchen, and the aroma of homemade cooking filled the air. Peter stood over the oven with his reading book in hand, convinced he was keeping watch and supervising, but really getting lost in the pages. Being so engrossed with his reading meant that he hadn't heard his wife come home, barging into the kitchen and slapping her palm against the marble counter to gain her husband's attention.

"Lesbians!" she cried in a tone which implied incomprehension, as if she had been lied to for many months.

Peter looked up from his book. "Ah, hello, dear. How's Rose?"

Margaret shook her head, opening the silver fridge and pulling out a bottle of white wine. "Lesbains," she muttered to herself. "I don't believe it."

Peter furrowed his eyebrows. He decided not to comment that Margaret had already drunk some red wine that afternoon. "I thought Rose had a husband?"

"Not Rose. Her daughter." Margaret paused for a moment as she opened the wine bottle and reached into a high cupboard for a wine glass. "Roberta and Jemelin," she spoke through gritted teeth.

Peter smiled warmly, now putting his book down and taking hold of a pink oven mitten to check on their dinner. "That's nice! You know they've been able to marry for years now, right?"

"I just don't understand," Margaret huffed. Deep down, there was a slight disappointment that she had not met two gay men. Of course she had nothing against lesbians, but having her hopes dashed always left Margaret in a bad mood. "Two men I can understand, it's rather sweet. But two women... I don't understand how it works. How do they, you know, have sex?"

"Why are you thinking about lesbian sex, Margaret?"

His wife flushed. "No, that's not what I mean! Who's the MAN in the relationship?"

"There isn't a man, that's why they're lesbians," Peter commented to himself. He let the dish rest atop the oven and turned the temperature dial to off. "I don't even think it's our business to discuss."

Margaret clicked her tongue as she reached up into one of the magohany cabinets and pulled out two large plates, white with blue diamond shapes along the rim, and went to collect the the knives and forks. Taking the tablespoon he had grabbed beforehand, Peter began to serve the pasta bake onto the plates.

"I thought you went over there to see how Rose was doing."

"Well, I really went to find out about this wedding," Margaret replied honestly.

"Oh, and how did that go?"

"I didn't find out much," Margaret replied, swirling the wine she had just poured in her glass. "Just that Roberta and Jemelin met four years ago at work, getting into a relationship half a year later. They work at a garden centre an hour away from here, and their boss has allowed them time off for their wedding. Roberta is due to turn twenty two at the end of this year, and Jemelin has just reached twenty one. They plan on getting married in a field in the middle of nowhere as Jemelin refuses to get married in a church, and there's just a few bits left for them to sort out and confirm, like wedding dress shopping, flowers, the cake, and transportation."

Peter was stunned. "I thought you didn't find out much?"

"I didn't. Well, if I had been given more time I would have learnt lots more," Margaret explained, taking the two hot plates to the island in the middle of the kitchen and setting them down by the bar stools. "Do you think they're a little young to get married?"

"Both girls are twenty one, right? Just slightly older than us. You were only eighteen when we married," Peter reminded Margaret.

Peter could still remember the first time he laid eyes on Margaret all those years ago; he had just expected to buy her a drink and take her home for a few hours, but Margaret had much bigger plans and arranged dates and built their relationship into something more. In fact, it had been Margaret who left signs and hints of marriage until Peter had no choice but to buy a ring. But contrary to belief, Peter HAD fallen head over heels for Margaret. Besides, she was easy to please; buy her what she asked for, do as she requested, and listen to what she had to say. You couldn't pretend to listen; Peter had learnt that the hard way.