9 -The Stress Test

Bel had risen early to clean. She'd rearranged the few things she had, which took no time at all. She told herself Sam wouldn't care. She didn't quite believe it.

From the window, she spotted the Tacoma pulling into the lot, streaked with mud from some recent off-road run, and Bel breathed out.

Bel watched the truck reverse into a spot. She had nearly asked Sam to come over last night. But she remembered her bed was a mattress on the floor, and considered that a poor look. Sam had simply kissed her goodbye and said she'd see her in the morning. That was a relief. It was also a little unnerving, how easily Sam seemed to know. Bel slept for eleven hours on that mattress.

When she got down to the carpark, the truck was dented and scratched, with dulled silver paint.

"I like this truck," Bel said, hopping in. "What kind is it?"

"This is my baby," Sam replied. "It's a Tacoma." 

"It suits you."

"Thanks," Sam said. She leaned over to kiss her, like it was a habit already.  

"I didn't know you liked off-road driving," Bel said. "But I can't say I'm surprised."

"Have you ever been before?"

"No. I didn't even go camping until middle school."

"Really?"

"My parents considered that beneath us. So I went with Lauren and her family."

Sam's mouth curved. "Lauren camps?"

"Not by choice. Her parents let her bring a friend so she'd stop complaining. That was me." 

Sam laughed. "So you were the bribe. We should go sometime."

Bel considered it. "Will there be a toilet?"

"I make no promises."

The store was busy, like Bel had predicted, it being the weekend. Sam pushed the cart while Bel steered them down the aisles. She knew exactly what she wanted.

"Bel! Hey! Steve, look. It's Bel!" Deb was already moving toward her, and pulled her into a hug before Bel could say anything back. Steve followed, shaking his head with a grin. They fussed over her as usual. Was she eating? Sleeping? Relaxing at all?

Then Deb noticed Sam. "Wait. Is this Sam from Spain?"

Deb and Steve shook her hand and told her they'd heard a lot about her, from Bel and Lauren both. Bel felt the blush. Sam looked amused.

"They're like my second parents," Bel said afterwards. And maybe my only parents.

Back at the apartment, Sam knelt on the floor, fitting pieces together while Bel read the instructions and handed her parts. Sam's phone buzzed beside her. She glanced at the screen and winced.

"Sorry. She's called three times. Do you mind if I call my mom back?"

"Of course not."

Sam stepped into the kitchen. Bel sorted the bolts into piles by size, which was the closest she could get to helping. She wasn't trying to listen. She didn't have to. Nellie's voice carried through the phone without the speaker on, a drawl so thick Bel had only ever heard it in movies.

"Sammy, where'd you put the jumper cables?"

"Second drawer in the shed. Has your car broken down?"

"Nope. Young family down the road, on their way home. They don't look like they got a lot."

"Be careful, Mom. Can Reb go with you?"

"I'll be fine. Don't you worry about me."

"Maybe bring your gun?"

Nellie laughed loudly. "You're seeing some girl I still ain't met, Sammy. Did you bring pepper spray?"

Sam laughed and glanced through the doorway at Bel, who was smiling. "Mom, your voice is louder than you realize. Just text me when it's done so I know you're okay."

Sam came back and knelt down. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine," Bel said. And she wasn't just saying it. Bel wished she had something like that with her own mother.

Bel hadn't heard from Catarina since the day she left. Matteo said she was coping, but this was the longest Bel had ever gone without her. It felt strange to miss her.

Bel knew her mother loved her. She'd asked once, at ten, and Catarina had said, "Yes, and don't ask me again." And Bel hadn't. She'd been looking for it in clues ever since. One was a university brochure about studying medicine, left on Bel's bed. The most recent was a vase that flew past Catarina's head in the kitchen that day.

Bel picked up a bolt and put it down again. "Besides disc golf and chasing chickens," she said, "what else do you like doing on the weekends?"

Sam grinned. "Helping beautiful ladies put flatpacks together." 

Bel smiled. "Seriously though."

"Uh," Sam ran her hand through her hair, like she was debating whether to say it out loud. "Woodwork."

"Woodwork?"

"When I plan it right." Sam pulled out her phone and showed her photos. A wine rack. A coffee table. Even a guitar.  

"You're good with your hands," Bel said.

"Thought about doing an apprenticeship when I was younger," Sam said, putting her phone away.

"Why didn't you?"

"Mom always said I should go to college. Said there's plenty of time to learn a trade if I want to later, but you can't always go back for a degree."

"Do you regret it? Not doing the apprenticeship?"

"No. I'm glad I listened to her." Sam lined up two side panels and held them at an angle for Bel to bolt together. "Doing it on the weekends means I only make what I want."

Bel nodded, threading the bolt through. "Keeping business and pleasure separate, I see." Then she felt silly. Why did I say that? She focused on getting the bolt tight.  

Sam kept her eyes on the panels, but the corner of her mouth gave her away.

"Is it okay to ask why you studied medicine? You don't have to answer."

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"I just mean," Sam paused, picking up the headboard. "With everything going on, it's a heavy thing to get into right now."

It was a small thing, the checking in, but it landed somewhere soft. Bel took the headboard from her, more to have something to do with her hands than because it needed doing.

"It's okay," she said, guiding the panel into its slot. "I wasn't allowed to be part of the family business. Sons only. And I wanted my own qualifications. Something nobody could take away." I don't want to get trapped like Mom.

"Medicine's a lot of work for a safety net."

"That's true. But there were a few more boxes to tick. I needed something I'd find interesting. Something that fed Dad's ego enough that he wouldn't fight it. He gets to brag about me at his yacht parties. Medicine ticked both boxes."

"That's a sophisticated strategy for someone so young." Sam grabbed the bolt being held out to her by Bel.  

"My mom doesn't have qualifications. Or money of her own." Bel turned the bolt slowly, not tightening it yet. She's trapped, and the nicest house in the world doesn't change that. "So, yeah. I wanted a way out that Dad couldn't take."

Sam didn't say anything right away. She picked up the last side panel, turning it over to check the orientation against the instructions.

"What's your family like?" Bel asked.  

"My mom, the one on the phone," Sam said, "She had a rough upbringing, from what she's told me. But when she got pregnant with me, she came here with Dad. A couple of my aunts back in Kentucky are meth addicts. She didn't want me around that."

"She must be pretty tough. Moving states while pregnant."

"Yeah." Sam smiled, setting the panel down and finally tightening the bolt Bel had left loose. "That's one way to describe her."

They dragged the mattress into place at last and sat side by side, shoulders brushing, the late light falling across the half-empty room.

Bel glanced at the bed frame and let out a breathy laugh. "Not bad for a second date."

Sam leaned back on her hands. "Teamwork makes the dream work."

Bel found herself noticing how soft Sam's mouth looked. Up close she could see a scatter of freckles she hadn't noticed before. She wondered if Sam had the same thought, can I kiss her now?

So Bel leaned in. Sam's hand slid to Bel's jaw. Somewhere in the kiss, Sam took over the pace. Bel felt her smile against her mouth.  

Sam eased her back onto the mattress, one hand flat between Bel's shoulder blades until the bed took her weight. She stopped with her forehead against Bel's.

"Is this okay?"

Bel didn't bristle this time. She smiled. "You've asked that before."

Sam laughed a breath against her lips and Bel wrapped her arms around Sam's neck. They kissed until Bel's hands found the hem of Sam's shirt.

"Can I do this?" Bel asked.  

Sam stilled. "I'm shirt-on," she said quietly. "Unless it's really dark."

Bel got up and tugged the curtains shut. Daylight bled through the edges anyway. Sam seemed embarrassed. Bel wished she'd spoken to her about the light before things had gotten this far.

She turned back with a wry smile.

"Sorry," Sam murmured. "I know that might seem strange."

"Don't be," Bel said, pulling her own shirt off. Sam's face lit up as Bel climbed on top of her and grinned.  "I'm definitely shirt-off. In case you can't tell."

Sam laughed and buried her face in Bel's cleavage, as if there had never been any awkwardness at all. Then she rolled them over, and Bel found herself looking up at the ceiling.

Sam said, "I've been dying to taste you again," as she kissed her way down, moving slowly like there was nowhere else to be. Everything else dropped away until there was only the pace Sam had set and Bel's own breathing keeping up with it. Out of habit, Bel opened her mouth to say faster, like she had with lovers who needed guidance. The word didn't come. Sam's hands stayed steady on her hips, and the slowness was already doing what few others had. Sam seemed to know her body better than Bel did.

Later, Bel moved down the bed. "I wanted to do this in Spain," she said against Sam's hip.

Sam's hand found her hair, and gathered it up, so it wouldn't fall in Bel's face. The first time Sam's shirt rode up under her ribs, Bel pulled it back down. The second time it happened, Sam said, "Just leave it."

So Bel did. The flat of her palm rested on Sam's stomach, and the muscles jumped every time she changed pace.

Afterward, as Bel rested her head on Sam's shoulder, she kept listening out for what was happening outside the door. She wanted this to last beyond today. It was the wanting that made her listen.

Sam tucked Bel's hair behind her ear. "Are you alright?"

Bel turned her head until their noses brushed. "Now we know the bed passes the stress test."

Sam kissed her forehead. "Sturdy craftsmanship."

They stayed in bed for the rest of the afternoon. Bel got up once, to get snacks, and she came straight back.  

But reality pressed in. Sam still needed to drive home. As Sam put her pants and shoes back on, Bel checked her phone. It was a text from Lauren.

Furniture shopping already. That's quick even for lesbians, right?

Bel thought about showing Sam, but put her phone away. Any time she'd been quick with someone, it had fizzled out just as fast.  

In the parking lot, the air had cooled, shadows stretching across the asphalt. Sam leaned against her truck, arms around Bel in a lingering hug that neither of them seemed ready to break.

The words slipped out. "When can I see you again?"

She hated how desperate it sounded, and for a moment she wished she could snatch it back.

Sam must have seen it on her face. "I want to see you again too, Bel. I'm down for work next month, but there are some weekends in between."

Bel nodded. She already hated the thought of watching Sam drive away, and now she had something to hold onto.

She stood in the empty lot until the Tacoma's taillights disappeared.