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From: S THOMAS BUSH <stbush@iglou.com>
Subject: Elizabeth & Anastasia - A Love Story [repost] 2/8
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Elizabeth and Anastasia

by Tom Bombadil

(c) Jul 1996

Chapter 2 of 8

Disclaimer:  All the standard rules apply.  If you are offended by 
explicit descriptions of sex or the human body, if it is illegal to 
possess such materials at your location, if you are under-age by law 
in your location, or if somebody else thinks you might have too much 
fun reading it, stop right now and remove this text from your 
computer.

This is purely a work of fiction, with all characters and actions 
described by me coming straight out of my imagination.  As a work of 
fiction, it may not reflect my personal views on any of the activities 
or actions described, nor is it based on any type of real events in my 
life, or known to me in the lives of any of my friends or relatives.

You've been warned.

<<present>>  Joyce reveals some secrets, a dinner run, a meeting
<<past>>     Heavy studying & their first date, lost opportunities, 
             dinner and a show

**********************************************************************

<<past>>

The study sessions with Stacy were grueling to say the least.
Everything had to be perfect - every word written, every answer, every
paragraph read.  It seemed Stacy expected Betty to memorize everything
given to her.  Period.  She somehow managed to zero directly in on 
anything Betty had skimmed or didn't understand.  Her attitude was 
brusque, almost to the point of rudeness, and irritated the younger 
girl to no end.

Betty thought Stacy hated her.  She didn't care much for Stacy 
either.

Things almost came to a head in one particularly brutal session about 
six weeks after they started.  Stacy was in fine form, tearing holes 
in the work Betty had done, picking out small problems and faults, 
even where Betty could have sworn there were none.  Betty had been 
having some arguments with her dad recently and was in no mood for 
this.  Her temper was beginning to fray, her voice getting louder, her
answers getting sharper.

After about an hour, Stacy leaned back into her chair, put her hands
behind her head, and stretched.  She held that position for a while,
just seeming to relax.

"Betty, I've had enough of this crap for a while.  Let's go out for a
coffee or something.  My treat.  We'll get back to it later."

There were several firsts for Betty in this.  She'd never seen Stacy
in this kind of mood before.  She'd never been offered any kind of
personal connection before, and she'd never ever heard Stacy swear
before.  She was a little leery of this.

"How come the sudden change of pace?"

Stacy stayed in the same stretched-out position.  There was a pause
before she answered.

"My workload's been brutal lately.  I really need a break, and I'd
prefer it in the company of someone pleasant and charming."

Pleasant and charming?  This was from Stacy, the person who'd spent
nearly two months shredding every bit of work Betty had done?  The 
same person who'd been snapping and growling at her the whole time?  
The one who Betty could swear hated her?

"Don't get me wrong on this, but I thought you really didn't like
me."

"Mmmmm."  She stretched a little more, using her hands to rub the back
of her neck and scalp.  "Betty, Betty, Betty.  Whoever said such a 
nasty thing was both a fool and a liar."

"Stacy, you've been harping on me, degrading my work, and chewing me 
out every chance you got since the day we started this tutor stuff.  
What the hell am I supposed to think?"

Stacy stopped her massage and put her hands down the side of the 
chair, leaned her head forward, eyes closed, stretching and loosening
the muscles in her neck.  It was a few minutes before she answered.

"You're right.  Look, I'm sorry.  It seems I've been taking out my
personal frustrations on you.  If it helps, I'll tell you why.
I've got a big workload at school, trying to maintain my grades so I
can get a scholarship for college.  I've got to work as well, as much 
as I can, to try and help my dad support me here.  My last lover and I
broke up a couple of months ago, and I don't have any really close
friends here that I can dump my problems on.  I guess it's been a bit
more pressure than I can really cope with.  You've been the unwitting
target of my aggravations.  I apologize.  And yes, I really do like 
you.  I promise I won't bite you anymore.  At least, not unless you 
really deserve it."  She said that last bit with a shy half-smile, and 
a glance at Betty.

Betty saw that smile and decided that maybe Stacy wasn't all that 
bad.  "Y'know, you have been acting like a she-devil who's sole 
mission was to *make*my*evenings*a*living*hell*."  Her voice became 
deeper and coarser as she said those last few words.  It was a poor 
imitation of the announcer on the horror flicks, but still 
recognizable.

"Ouch!  I guess I deserved that.  I do need to get away from this 
mess, even if it's only for a little while.  You haven't said yes or 
no yet, Betty."  

Stacy was still stretched out in her chair, head now hanging back, 
eyes closed, seemingly relaxed.  For some reason, Betty thought she 
saw Stacy tense up slightly after that last sentence.  It was rather 
odd, but it reminded her of a guy who'd asked her out on a date the 
week before.  She'd turned him down (he was a geek) but still felt 
sorry for him when she saw that brief look of pain in his eyes.

It was something of a decision.  She wasn't sure if she wanted to know
Stacy any better, especially with the way she had been treated for the
last while.  But then again, maybe the real person was finally 
starting to show through.  It certainly couldn't make these tutoring 
sessions any worse.  'Oh, what the hell.  Why not.'

"Yes."  

Stacy had been tense, waiting for her answer.  Betty saw the faint but 
unmistakable signs of Stacy's body relaxing slightly, especially 
around the shoulders.

Betty changed out of her sweats into tight jeans and a nice blouse.  
She felt a bit embarrassed about changing in front of Stacy, not 
really understanding why.  Shaking it off as illogical, she still 
noticed that the older girl was watching her carefully out of the 
corner of her eye, especially when she was squirming into her jeans.

Jonathan didn't even look up when Betty told him they were taking a 
break and heading out for a cola someplace.  It wasn't until they 
were in Stacy's car and heading down the road that either of them 
spoke again.

Breaking the silence, Betty went first.  "Stacy, I'm sorry.  I didn't
realize you two had broken up.  He seemed like such a nice guy, too."

"He?"  Betty took that as a question of identity, not realizing there
could be another interpretation of its meaning.

"Yeah, that guy you were with the first night you showed up at my 
place."  Seeing a puzzled look on Stacy's face, she went on.  "You 
know, the tall dreamy looking guy, sort-of Italian?  Come on, Stacy.  
I'd never forget a kiss like that in a million years!"

"Oh.  Right!  Woody.  He came over that night."

"That's the guy."

Stacy laughed a bit.  Betty saw that the older girl was blushing.

"Sorry Betty, I couldn't help myself.  That was only a couple of weeks
after my breakup.  And no, Woody wasn't my lover.  He's a dear friend
that likes to look after 'his little girl'.  Of course, he's got a few
dozen little girls to look after, and a couple of them are old enough
to be his mother."

"Don't worry.  I can hear those dirty thoughts percolating through 
your dirty little mind, picturing all sorts of dirty little scenes.  
Woody is the maintenance man for the apartment complex I live in.  He 
considers every woman in there, regardless of age or looks, his little 
girl.  And yes, he's done this for me before, and for several other 
girls that I know of."

"I'm sorry if I got the wrong idea, but if I remember correctly, and I
couldn't possibly forget this, that kiss he gave you was a far cry
from some chaste brotherly peck on the cheek."

"Oooo-boy-yeah!  You got that right.  When that man kisses you, you
stay kissed for a week.  He's incredible.  Who knows.  Maybe you'll 
meet him again.  And if you're really, really good, he might give you 
a kiss too."

"No way!  After seeing what he did to you, I'd be scared to let him
near me!  Besides, he might spoil me for life."

"You could be right.  I've never found anyone else who could kiss like 
that."

"So, who were you going out with?  Would I know the guy?"

"Look, Betty.  Maybe we can talk about this another time, when its not
so fresh and painful."  Betty watched as several brief expressions
ran across Stacy's face.  She recognized only two.  The first was a 
short flash of pain, and the other was ... embarrassment?  Yes, 
because she was blushing a little, again.

Taking her eyes off Stacy, she looked around, noticing where they
were.  They had already passed several of the fast-food joints Betty 
thought they might be going to, and seemed to be heading towards the 
university.

"Where are you taking me?"

"We're going to a little restaurant I know.  I really do need a break,
and it's one of the most relaxing places in the city."

A few minutes later they arrived.  It looked like one of those 
subdued, out-of-the way, expensive places.  Annabella's.  She'd never 
even heard of it before.  When they walked in, it looked elegant, 
relaxed, and even more expensive.  The maitre'd (yes, maitre'd, not 
hostess) was an older lady, good looking, well made up, wearing a 
modestly cut black dress.

When she spoke, her voice was soft and low-pitched.  Her accent was
as clear as it was unidentifiable.  Betty couldn't even tell which
continent the accent came from.

"Good evening.  Ah, Anastasia.  How nice to see you again.  And who
is this you brought with you?"

"This is Elizabeth.  We've been studying a bit too much lately, so I
thought we deserved a proper break."

"Studying?"  This from the maitre'd.

"Yes, studying.  Schoolwork.  Really dry, boring, miserable stuff
about people who've mostly been dead for decades.  I thought this
would be the perfect place for a change of scenery."

"Excellent choice.  I believe I understand.  Follow me please."

This was a nice restaurant.  It was difficult to estimate how many
tables or booths were there because of the strategic placement of
potted plants and scattered trellis-works, with pillars and archways 
that sprang out from nowhere.  Everything seemed geared towards making 
each table and booth as private as possible.

They were finally seated in a corner booth, blocked off from view by
a large plant and by the corner of the restaurant's bar.  The seat 
was an L shaped booth around a smallish table, leaving not much room 
for feet and legs.  The table was covered with a real linen cloth.  
Subdued, soft music came from somewhere, as you'd expect in a place 
like this.  They saw few other patrons on their way, and those were 
mostly women.  

This was not the type of place Betty had been expecting to be treated
to for 'a coffee or something'.  Then again, she really didn't know
anything about Stacy.  The sheer elegance of the place left her in 
awe, as neither her mother nor her father had ever treated her to a 
restaurant this nice.  Dad occasionally took her to McDonald's for 
dinner, as if she were still a little girl, never thinking to take her 
to the kind of places he took Patsy.

"Anastasia?  Elizabeth?"  This from a rather puzzled-looking Betty.

"Look around.  Soak in the atmosphere.  Get the feel of this place.  
Stacy's and Betty's don't come here.  They go to Denny's.  This is 
where elegant ladies come for fine food and drink.  A place where 
Elizabeth and Anastasia can relax and enjoy themselves.  God, I feel 
better already."

"Okay, but, Anastasia?"

"What can I say.  Back then my mother was a hopeless romantic."

They were interrupted by a waitress, dressed identically to the 
maitre'd, except that the dress and accessories were in blue.  She sat 
several items on the table - linen napkins, linen place mats, a tall 
pink candle which she lit, and a bud vase containing a fresh pink 
rose.

"Hello Anastasia, Elizabeth.  My name is Jacklyn and I'll be your
host for this evening.  Would you like drinks to start with?"

Betty was thirsty so she asked for a cola.  A pained expression 
flashed over both Stacy's and their host's faces.

"Do you even have cola here?" asked Stacy.

"Of course.  We use it for mix behind the bar."

"I think I'd better order for both of us.  Are you hungry Elizabeth?"

Feeling a touch embarrassed by her unintentional faux-pas, Betty 
stared at the table.  "Only a little.  Maybe."

"It's all right, Elizabeth.  I can see you've never been treated to a 
place like this before.  This will be a new experience for you.  Don't 
worry.  My first time here was only a couple of years ago, and I was 
in such awe, the only memory I have of what we ate that night is that 
it was delicious."

"We'll skip the cola, and the meal, and go straight to dessert.  I 
feel like committing a mortal sin tonight.  We'll have two house 
coffees, a half-litre of your dry white, and two slices of that utter 
decadence you call raspberry cake.  I think that should be enough to 
guarantee our fall from grace."

"Very well.  I'll be back shortly."

"Stacy, what is this place?"

"Elizabeth, while we're here, I'm Anastasia.  This is a first-class 
high-quality dining establishment.  It has a very select and 
privileged list of patrons, mostly referrals from other members."

"So how come we're here?  I'm not rich, and it didn't sound like you 
were either.  I mean, this place almost screams expensive.  How come 
they let us in if it's so exclusive?"

"Money and power won't get you in here.  Neither will fine clothes.
Notice you were let in wearing jeans?  Nobody even blinked.  
Discretion, manners, a nice attitude, and the ability to enjoy a 
really good meal are all that you need.  That and a good referral."

"But this place has got to be expensive.  How can you afford it?"

"Elizabeth, I treat myself here about once a month, just to remind
me of why I'm working so damned hard.  I LIKE it here.  It's usually
desserts, like we're having, because I rarely have enough left over
for a real dinner.  Yes, the prices are high, but not outrageous.  And
the food is always wonderful."

Just then their host (her words, not mine) returned carrying a tray
full of food.  Two coffee's, a small carafe of wine, two wine glasses,
and something that vaguely resembled chocolate cake.  Stacy poured two
glasses of wine while Betty studied this thing placed in front of 
her.

It did resemble chocolate cake, because the layers of cake were
chocolate coloured, as was the icing, what little she could see of it.
There were about ten layers of cake, with alternating chocolate and 
raspberry icing between them.  The lowest layer was thick with
raspberry filling.  So much shaved chocolate had been dropped on top
that most of it had fallen onto the plate.  This was all covered with 
a thick raspberry glaze.  Looking more carefully, Betty saw that a 
handful of fresh raspberries (fresh?!) had been sprinkled around the 
plate, and a gold leaf had been pressed into the back of her slice, on 
the icing.  This resembled the chocolate cake she was used to like a 
full wedding gown resembled a simple summer dress.

"Am I supposed to eat this?"

"No.  You're supposed to taste it, savor it, enjoy it, revel in it.
You can't just eat it.  And don't forget the wine and the coffee.
They're necessary parts of the whole, if you want to have the full
experience.  Don't make the same mistake I did.  Pay attention to your
first meal here.  Now, not another peep out of you until we're both 
done."

Betty relaxed and started to eat.  It was delicious.  She didn't know 
how Stacy got away with the wine, because they were both underage, but 
what the heck.  It certainly did go well with the cake and the 
coffee.

After they were finished, Stacy poured them both a second glass of 
wine.  Their host came by and cleared the table.

"How was your meal, ladies?"

"Divine, as usual.  I don't know how much you pay the folks that make
these temptations, but it's not enough.  Thank you."

"You're welcome.  Will this be your usual?"

"Yes.  And yours as well."

"Thank you.  Enjoy the rest of your evening."

When Jacklyn left, Stacy slipped off her shoes, turned, and slid into
the corner of the booth, draping her feet over the end.  Betty didn't
mind.  It gave her more room for her legs under the table.  They'd 
been playing foot shuffle all night, neither having quite enough room
for legs and feet.

"C'mon Elizabeth.  Kick your shoes off and get comfy."  Betty
did as she was told.  Getting comfortable, though, was easier said 
than done.  The bench was too hard on her feet if she tried to curl 
them up underneath her, and there wasn't quite enough room to turn and 
put them on the bench in front of her - they'd poke into Stacy.

Finally, giving up on getting comfortable, Betty was sitting up and
stretching to put her shoes on.  Stacy reached down, grabbed one of
the young girl's feet, and pulled it up into her own lap.

"Let's have the other one up here too."

"What are you doing?"

"I'm getting comfortable.  You've been squirming around like you had
ants in your pants, trying to find somewhere to put your feet.  Now
they've got someplace to stay, so sit back and relax."

Betty put her other foot into Stacy's lap and leaned back.  She was
a bit startled by what had happened, especially when the other girl 
started to massage her feet.  The easy-going atmosphere, the music, 
and the wine helped her to accept what was happening and just enjoy 
the moment.

They finished their wine in silence.  Stacy stared off into the 
distance, lost in thought.  Betty stared at Stacy, studying her face, 
watching different expressions appear and vanish as her mind moved 
here and there.

Thinking about it for a minute, Betty realized that she felt more
comfortable here than anywhere else she'd been, including home, in a 
long, long time.  It was totally relaxing and peaceful, with no 
nagging thoughts, no guilt about not doing something else, nobody 
demanding anything of her, and no Dad.

No Dad?  That last little trickle of thought made her realize that Dad 
was indeed a major stress factor in her life.  Even though they loved 
each other, her father was a constant reminder of the labor it took to 
survive, the loss of her mother, and Patsy.  Mentally shaking herself 
to get rid of those thoughts, Betty let her mind go blank.  She simply 
enjoyed this feelings of utter 'rightness', sitting there, doing 
nothing, getting her feet rubbed, letting the tensions and worries 
slide away and be replaced by feelings of warmth, security, and, well, 
caring.

She decided she liked the older girl.  Maybe more than liked.

Eventually Stacy said it was time to go.  Neither really wanted to, 
but both knew they had no choice.  Her father would probably be 
wondering where they went.  Slipping on shoes and heading out the 
door, they were in the car and heading home before a nagging thought 
in the back of Betty's mind finally stepped up.

"Stacy, is it my imagination, or did we just leave without paying the
bill?"

"It's your imagination."

"No it's not.  Jacklyn never brought us a bill, and we didn't stop at
the front desk to pay."

"It's just your imagination.  I paid the bill.  You just didn't see 
it."

"Stacy, don't play games with me.  I was with you the whole time, 
remember?  I never saw a bill, and you never touched your purse.  So 
what happened?"

"Honest Betty, I paid.  Remember how I said the place had a rather
exclusive list of patrons?  Most regulars get the payment details done 
up ahead of time, usually with charge cards.  This saves plenty of 
time and bother, especially if a couple wants to leave in a hurry.  
Jacklyn asked if I wanted to pay in my usual manner, and I said yes, 
and told her to add in her usual percentage for a tip.  Pay more 
attention next time and you'll see."

"So, how much did this evenings debauchery cost you?"

"No-no-no-no.  No telling.  This was my treat.  Don't spoil it by 
asking too many questions."

By the time they got back to Betty's place it was too late to get any 
more serious studying done.  Her dad asked where they'd gone and what 
they'd had and she'd replied that they'd gone to a restaurant Stacy 
knew and had some coffee and chocolate cake.  They'd spent more time 
talking about school than they meant to, and didn't notice the time 
until too late.

Betty didn't really know why she hadn't told her father all about it, 
especially since it was one of the nicer evenings she'd ever had, but 
guessed that it should be something private between her and Stacy.  
Dad wouldn't understand.  He might even get mad.

Stacy was packed up to go in a few minutes.  Betty, thinking about it, 
thought she should thank Stacy properly for what she'd done.

"Anastasia, thank you for sharing your special place with me.  It was
really nice."

Stacy looked at Betty, blinking a bit.  She seemed unsure about 
something.

"No Elizabeth, thank you.  This was one of the nicest evenings I've 
had in a long time.  It was very ... pleasant ... having someone like 
you to share it with.  I've got to run now.  Goodnight."

Stacy bent over and gave Betty a kiss on the cheek.  A soft, tender 
kiss, not something you'd get from your maiden aunt.  Then she rushed 
out the door and was gone.

Betty lay awake a long time that night, wondering about what had 
happened.  The only way she could describe it was that she'd been out 
on a date, and been given a good night kiss.  Stacy had also hinted 
several times that the two of them would be back in that restaurant, 
together.  Very strange.  She didn't know whether she should be 
excited or afraid.  It had been a wonderful evening, one that she 
hoped to repeat, but it was difficult to understand Stacy.  Which one 
was the real her?

Her cheek tingled whenever she thought about that kiss.


**********************************************************************

<<present>>

"Well, Betty, I know that you and Stacy have been lovers for quite
some time now, (She knew?  How?  I didn't think she had a clue!) and 
that you haven't seen each other since that disagreement last
week. (What!?)  What I want to know is how you feel about Stacy."

"Joyce, how did you know about me and Stacy, and why are you asking
me about this now?"

"How did I know about you and Stacy?  Well, I may be getting old, but 
I'm neither senile nor blind, and I've seen the type of relationship 
you two have many times before.  I made a shrewd guess.  As for why 
now?  Since that row you three had last week you've been miserable.  
It's fairly easy to tell for someone who's known you as long as I 
have."

"Now, you still haven't answered my question about how you feel
about Stacy."

Betty looked hard at Joyce for a few seconds before something let go 
inside.  She started crying, sobbing about how she loved Stacy, how 
she was the most important thing in her life, how she didn't know if 
she'd ever see Stacy again and how she hated her father for what he'd 
done to her and to Stacy and to her mother.

Joyce never interrupted, just making soothing noises, giving Betty the 
occasional tissue to sop up the tears, waiting for her to wind down.

"There there dear.  Feeling better now?  I always felt better after
a good cry when I was your age, especially when the whole world was 
against me."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to break down like this.  I think I'd
better go home now."

"Don't be silly.  We haven't finished our chat yet.  There's lots more 
to talk about, but most of it will wait for another day.  Right now, 
we're talking about you and Stacy.  Is there any good reason why you 
haven't seen her since last week?"

Betty told her about the secret phone calls and the trip to the
apartment.

"Okay, so you've tried to see her and talk with her, but haven't
had any luck.  That's what I was wondering about.  I may be able
to help."


**********************************************************************

<<past>>

It was the longest five days Betty had ever endured.  From Thursday
night, when they had their 'date', she had to wait until Tuesday for 
their next tutoring session.  Unsure of whether she was looking 
forward to it or dreading it made things worse.  She knew she was 
attracted to Stacy, but was very much afraid of those feelings.  Betty 
knew what her father would be like if he even suspected.  Also feeding 
her fear was the question of whether Stacy had any of those same 
feelings for her, or if her imagination had simply been working 
overtime.  

She'd never had these feelings before for anyone, boy or girl.  The 
thought that Stacy might be a lesbian or something like that didn't 
bother her.  Back when her mother was still around, they'd talked 
frequently about this sort of thing because a number of Mom's friends 
were bi or lesbian, and it had looked strange to the ten-year-old to 
see two women necking.  Mom had even admitted to having a couple of 
lady lovers before meeting up with Dad.

Tuesday, when Stacy finally arrived, was a big letdown.  All they did 
was talk about English, homework, and school.  She was quizzed several 
times on the assignments she'd been given, and was chewed out for the 
mistakes she made, but that was it.

Occasionally, Stacy would get lost in thought, or looked like she was
going to say one thing then changed her mind and said something else.
She never said one word about what had happened.  There wasn't even 
the fire and brimstone feeling, the hard-edged push that had been 
there before.  As miserable as that had been, Betty missed it.  It was 
as though Stacy didn't feel anything anymore.  When the evening was 
over, Stacy left with nothing more than a perfunctory goodnight.

Later that night, in bed, waiting for sleep to come, Betty was running
the evening through in her mind, wanting to find something, but not 
sure what she was looking for.  She knew she should feel relieved that 
nothing else happened, but couldn't figure out why her eyes wouldn't 
stop leaking.  Maybe it had something to do with that empty feeling in 
her chest.

Her cheek tingled, somehow still echoing the feel of those tender lips 
on her skin.


**********************************************************************

<<present>>

"Help?  How?"

"Well, actually, Stacy and I had a long chat today over lunch.  Never 
mind how I managed that because I won't tell you right now.  I'm also 
not going to bore you with the details of what we talked about.  Let's 
just say that she was very unsure about how you felt about her, and 
wanted some time for each of you to think things over.  I've arranged 
for the two of you to meet later tonight, with me as a chaperone.  
That is, if you would like to see Stacy again."

"Of course I want to see her!  When?  How did you do this?"

"Okay then, it's settled.  As far as your father is concerned, you
and I will be going out to dinner just to cheer you up.  He knows I 
don't like him, so he won't be surprised at not being invited.  You'll 
just have to do a little play acting to keep him from being 
suspicious.  Come on over at six, and we'll head out."

"Now then, you'd better scoot because your father's probably home by 
now wondering where you are.  You also need to change and have a 
wash-up.  See you in a while."

When Betty walked out of Joyce's place, she saw the living room 
curtains at her own house move.  'Oh great,' she thought, 'now dad's 
spying on me.'

When she walked into her house, she worked hard to keep her excitement
down, leaving just enough there to make it sound like she was looking 
forward to going out to dinner with Joyce.

"Hello short stuff.  Where did you head off to after school?"

"The usual.  Basketball practice.  Joyce asked me over for a cup of 
tea.  We sat and talked for a while about school and stuff.  She's 
invited me out for dinner tonight, said she'd noticed me moping about 
just a bit too much and thought that some good food might help cheer 
me up."

Her Dad looked at her rather suspiciously.  He had seen her come
back from Joyce's, and it wasn't all that unusual for them to go out
to dinner together.  Joyce preferred to eat out whenever possible,
dragging along anybody she could get to go with her.  He still didn't
trust Joyce, she'd been too close a friend to his ex-wife, was now
far too close a friend to his daughter, and never hid the fact that 
she disliked him.

"Okay, you can go.  Just remember, curfew at eleven, it's a school
night.  I guess I'll just have to fix my own dinner."  He usually did 
the cooking anyway, so this was no great sacrifice.

"Thanks, Dad.  I need to get washed up and changed.  We're supposed to 
be going at six."  Betty was relieved that he hadn't created a fuss.  
She saw that he was suspicious but wasn't going to start anything 
right now.

Six o'clock rolled around.  Joyce drove betty almost half-way across 
town, taking the scenic route and doubling back on herself several 
times.  Betty ignored most of this because she was rehearsing what she 
was going to say when she saw Stacy.  Curiosity finally getting the 
better of her, she had to ask.

"Joyce, where the heck are we going?  It's almost like you're trying 
to get us lost or something."

"No dear, I'm not trying to get us lost.  I'm just making certain this 
is a private dinner, with no uninvited guests.  It took me a while, 
but I managed to 'shake him off' as they say."

"Shake him off?  Shake who off?  Off what?"

"Well, you're father's been tailing us ever since we left my place, 
just like in the movies.  I don't think he trusts me."

"What!  My father, following us?  Are you sure?"

"Positive.  I didn't say anything earlier because I didn't want you 
glancing back and making him even more suspicious.  This way, it looks 
like I lost him in traffic.  Lord almighty, this is fun!  We're going 
to be a few minutes late to the restaurant, but I think we should be 
okay.  Having your father show up would have been a real problem."

They made the rest of the trip in silence.  Betty was lost in thought, 
shocked by what her father was capable of doing.


**********************************************************************

<<past>>

The next several tutoring sessions followed the same pattern, with 
little being discussed except English.  Betty was beginning to think 
that special night had been nothing but a dream, nothing but her 
imagination.  Then, about a month later, something else happened.

It was during a Thursday session again, late, just when they were 
packing things up for the night.

"Betty, how would you like to go out with me on a date Saturday 
night.  These two guys invited me to dinner, and we need another woman 
to make it a foursome."  She was sitting in the chair, leaning back, 
seemingly relaxed, staring into empty space.

All the buried thoughts and emotions came pouring back.  Betty sat 
heavily in her chair, too stunned to respond.  She wanted to look into 
Stacy's eyes to see what she was thinking, maybe find what she hoped 
was in there, but Stacy wouldn't meet her gaze.  The young girl's 
answer was unexpected, both to herself and to Stacy.

"Stacy, I thought you didn't like me anymore."

After a short pause, Stacy smiled.

"Whoever said such a nasty thing was both a fool and a liar."

Betty smiled too, her mind made up in an instant.

"Anastasia, I'd love to go out with you on Saturday, along with 
whoever else you're bringing.  But if you go on treating me like you
have for the last month, I'll hate you forever."

Stacy smiled again.  "I think I get the picture."

Betty was tempted to lean over and give Stacy a kiss on the cheek.  
She resisted, not sure how the other girl would respond at this time.  
"Good.  Now get out of here.  I'm sure you've got things you need to 
do.  Call me tomorrow with the details."

Not wanting Stacy to see her eyes getting misty, Betty started 
cleaning up her desk, putting things away and tidying up.  She heard 
Stacy start to speak a couple of times, but then stop without saying a 
word.  Soon she was alone again.  Her tutor was gone.

There were new feelings in the pit of her stomach, those of excitement 
and trepidation.  Excitement because she'd be going out with Stacy 
again, and that same nervousness tinged with fear about what she might 
be getting into.  Is this what she wanted?  Is this how her mother got 
started, years ago?  The thought pumped even more adrenalin into her 
system.

Her cheek tingled, echoing that kiss, her memory of it still fresh 
after all this time.


**********************************************************************

<<present>>

The restaurant was a decent one, Italian, with a rather cozy interior, 
dim, but bright enough not to interfere with eating.  Joyce led stacy 
into a back corner after talking with the matre'd, stopping at a 
semi-private booth which was shielded from the rest of the restaurant 
by a number of large plants.

In the far side of the booth was Stacy, looking wonderful in a black 
satin dress, blonde hair done up in a cascade which framed her perfect 
face, deep red lips, and gorgeous blue eyes.  She looked delicious.

Stacy, looking back, saw Betty walking toward her, feeling her 
emotions stirring and building up inside her.  She was in love with 
Betty, and had been for a long time.  It was just that she'd never 
been able to admit it to herself until this past week.  Moving over, 
she motioned Betty to come and sit beside her, not really knowing what 
to expect, but glad Betty had at least decided to show up.

Betty slid into the booth beside Stacy and turned to look at her.  All 
those carefully rehearsed words evaporated as she looked into her 
lover's eyes.  Stacy held out her arms for a hug, and Betty fell into 
that warm embrace.  She wrapped her arms around Stacy and rested her 
head on the girl's shoulder.  There was no stopping it - she began to 
cry, letting go of all the fear and loneliness that had built up over 
the past week.  The older girl soon followed, now knowing that she had 
indeed been sorely missed.  It was something they both needed, and the 
sight of these two rediscovering each other touched Joyce deeply.

After they sobbed for a bit, Betty pulled back.

"I didn't think you wanted to see me anymore."

"Absolute nonsense.  Who ever would say such a thing is both a fool 
and a liar."  That brought a smile to both their faces.  "Of course I 
did.  I just needed some time alone, away from everyone, to think 
about what had happened.  Besides, I was scared to call you after that 
horrible scene with your father.  I thought you'd hate me after that."

"Never.  I couldn't hate you, ever.  You're the most wonderful person 
in the world."

"Nope.  Just the second most wonderful.  You're the best, my Little
Blossom."

"My, my, my.  You two sound like newlyweds after your first tiff.
Really, you're starting to embarrass me!"  Joyce had a big smile
on her face, obviously not the least embarrassed by the two of them.
"Here, you both need tissues, you've managed to mess each other up
pretty good."

When they were reaching for the tissues, both noticed that dinner
had arrived.  Neither remembered ordering anything.

"I took the liberty of ordering for all of us since you two had your 
minds elsewhere.  Besides, I'm hungry."

"Joyce, " Stacy said, looking into Joyce's eyes, "I don't know how
to thank you.  I doubt whether I would ever have had the courage
to contact Betty again on my own, not with her father there."

"Piffle.  Think nothing of it.  When a person gets to be my age,
there aren't too many joys left in life.  Seeing you two lovebirds
together like this is wonderful, and makes any efforts I made
seem like nothing.  Now if you two will excuse me for a minute, I
think I'll go powder my nose."

Joyce got up and left, leaving the two of them alone for a few 
minutes.

"Stacy, how do you feel about me?  Honestly?"

"Well, Little Blossom, it took me a while, but I finally figured out 
that I love you."

Betty turned her head into Stacy's shoulder and started crying again, 
this time with joy.  "Oh God, Stace, I love you too!"

A few minutes later, Joyce came back.  "I thought you two were already
finished with that mushy stuff.  Here, have some more tissues.  Lucky 
I brought plenty with me."

It wasn't long before the two of them straightened up and started 
eating.

"Now, I know you two haven't thought about this yet, but what are
you going to do after tonight?  Having the odd secret dinner together
probably isn't going to be enough, is it?  And I doubt whether
Jonathan could handle having Stacy around or having you pop over
to Stacy's all the time.  So, both of you need to make some hard
choices.  If you want to be together, you're going to have to do it 
properly, regardless of what other people think."

"What do you mean?"

"I think Stacy knows what I mean, and she doesn't look like she's too 
upset at the thought.  Well, Stacy?"


**********************************************************************

<<End of chapter 2>>

Next chapter
<<present>>  A pending decision, more revelations, confrontation and
             a slap in the face.
<<past>>     Dinner and a show, bad coffee, a long cold summer


Author's note:

Annabella's Restaurant is partly based on a real establishment I've
been to a few times.  It shouldn't hurt your enjoyment of the story to 
know that it's a members-only restaurant, catering to ladies that 
don't usually fit the mainstream of society.

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