Reveries

Mason picked up her phone messages and was surprised to hear one was from Catherine Altamira, her old psychology professor. She listened to it twice, writing down the names and phone numbers carefully in her appointment book. As she thought about what to say when she spoke with the various people on the list, she found her mind wandering to the memory of Constance, and the first time she and Constance had been alone together and intimate. Amazingly, she was beginning to shed her unwillingness to let her mind linger in such places. Though it had always been easier with Constance than with Nick, more controllable... there were difficulties though. Things she had to think through in her mind.

It was strange how insecure Constance was, or maybe it was not at all strange. It was ironic, though. Here was a person whose most finely polished skill was seduction, and she was as lost as anyone in throes of doubt that the object of her affections.. in this case Mason herself... might ever truly return them. Mason felt sure that given enough time, and .... shedding of inhibition, that she would find herself loving Constance as much as Nick did. But Constance, hyperaware that such was not yet the case, was drawing away, deciding in her own mind that she could settle for friendship and intimate playfulness, not seek anything deeper. Or so Mason felt, in her deepest instinctive sense of Constance, one that gained in its accuracy with every moment they spent together.

That first time, so lovely yet so awkward, two women of social grace covering up the awkwardness with too much agreeability. It would have gone better had one of them been like Nick, blind to the expected niceties. Then they might have broken through to something real. As it was, it was all pretty on the outside and fake on the inside, like a wedding cake in a department store window, icing over plastic.

Physically... it had been very pleasant... one would never doubt that Constance knew her way around anyone's pleasure centers. Mason had been astonished and educated on several levels. Never one to experiment even in thought, she'd always been completely tolerant of same-sex relationships intellectually but it had never even occurred to her to fantasize about one... much less consummate it. She'd let Constance take the lead, which was part of the problem right there, at least for Mason. Her passion was never in it when she was passive. Yet she'd felt too much the novice to do anything more.

Mason thought perhaps one of the problems had been that she planned it too hard. Bringing Christmas decorations, including mistletoe... she was hoping would show Constance a clear opening. Yet the first reaction Constance had to the decoration idea was one of bitter memory. That too had been inauspicious. Though soon they were affectionately smooching, it had all had the air of expectation, not romance. Taken for granted already? Mason shook her head. No, it had not been that bad. It had at least broken the ice. A few more times since, had been more spontaneous, but Mason had not yet felt able to broach the question of doing it her way, rather than Constance's way. This kept Mason in a once-removed state from her own feelings, which in turn added to Constance's conviction that Mason was not going to ever truly love her. A bad cycle.

The hard part though was Constance's past. Mason knew, though she didn't know how she knew - she sensed - that Constance would let her do anything she asked. That Constance, unlike Nick, could not keep a promise not to let Mason hurt her. At least, not yet. Ironically, the problem was that she did not trust Mason enough. She didn't yet believe that Mason would stay despite being told no. Or, rather, that she would not let it drive a wedge between the two of them. Mason tugged at her hair, trying to think how she could change this, get through this mental block for them both.

An idea blossomed in Mason's mind, one that made her tremble all over with a rush of passionate desire, mixed with a sort of terror at her own mind. Not something safe, not something without horrible risk... but perhaps that was one reason it seemed so vibrantly compelling. She thought about it very hard, wondering if she should talk to Nick about it, if he would even be able to understand. It would take time... and effort... and long talks... and perhaps a bit more.... before she could even begin to undertake this plan of action.... all's fair in love and war, she thought, trying to remember whose quote that was.

And yet... this was the answer... or an answer. For in the heart of her, Mason could only fall in love with those she put at risk; only in the roiling inner struggle to protect them from herself were her passions born. Too deep; she recoiled from delving further into her own complexities. The saner you are, the more you need a psychiatrist, she thought, savoring the irony.

With these thoughts her mind turned back to psychology, and psychologists, and she turned to the telephone, placing the first of several calls.