Sally slammed the cabinet-lined rear door of the camper and stomped grimly across the gravel parking lot toward the outhouse. The holding tank from their portable toilet sloshed as she carried it at arm’s length.

With a start, she saw the remains of the fight last night: a plate of crusted brown where Lavinia had lost most of her new blood, and the body whose throat she had bitten out. She ran her tongue over her teeth in wonder and disgust.

She had fought for Lavinia, had almost died for her. Ten minutes ago, she’d been full of joy as they made love.

Why was she now thinking about leaving?

Ten minutes ago, she’d held her wife in her arms, ready to move to a whole new level of intimacy, and now…

♦

Lavinia opened her eyes. “Lemme do you now, tiger,” she said languidly, warmly.

“You don’t have to; I’m fine.” Sally kept her arm around Lavinia’s shoulder, her other hand cupped the bristly pubic hair and the wet lips.

The smart-ass New York Jew came out. “Oh, you’re fine, kiddo, no doubt about it. But I want to do you, so get that hand out of me and get those clothes off. Now.”

Sally, quivering with desire, didn’t want to argue. But did she really want to just pant and obey? Didn’t she want to boldly tell Lavinia what to do?

Sometimes simple in-the-moment choices seem frighteningly meaningful.

She was about to make a non-decision by calling time out for the mundane fact that she had to use the toilet when Lavinia froze, eyes huge. Tiny hurtful movements rippled through her body. “What?!” Sally cried, heart pounding, then realized that the sun must be up.

Lavinia gagged big round syllables. Finally, she got control of her speech. “Sorry, sorry, I just hate being paralyzed, I hated it yesterday too, aw god, I can’t even turn my head the whole fucking day again.”

Sally took her hand out of Lavinia’s jeans and put both arms around her beloved. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No, no, I just gotta get used to it again. Yesterday when you found me? I’d been near screaming for half an hour, I finally just went numb.” Her breath was jagged. “I can move again tonight. Jesus fuck, that’s a long long way away.”

Her head quivered. “I’m okay.” The more often she said it, the less Sally believed it. “Hey, sorry I can’t, I’m just not up for topping you right now.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” Sally reassured her. “I have to shit anyway; I wouldn’t have enjoyed…”

Lavinia’s face clouded and Sally stopped.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lavinia demanded, packing power into her weak daytime whisper.

Sally looked down at the rumpled sheets. She shouldn’t have let this slip when Lavinia was dealing with so much else. But at Lavinia’s “Huh?!” she knew she had to speak.

“All I meant was that the stuff you do with my ass, and I love it! But when I have to shit, it just … hurts.” She scratched at the blanket.

“I should have told you, I’m sorry,” she added miserably as the silence stretched. I’ve looked death in the face! She made herself meet Lavinia’s angry (but at least not panicked) eyes.

“How many times?” Lavinia finally asked.

Sally tilted her head left and right. “Once or twice.” Then honesty made her add, “I guess four times.” She tried to shrug, no big deal. “I guess usually I just made sure I was empty when I thought we’d make love.”

In all their power play, Lavinia had never made her feel like she felt now. At the edge of memory her father bellowed and sent her to her room flushed and terrified. Her body ached frighteningly for Lavinia to punish her, to make her really hurt.

“I trusted you.” Lavinia said angrily. “If you needed me to stop, god fuck it, you should have said.”

“I’m sorry!” Sally yelled. “I knew the bad stuff would end and I love you so much, I just didn’t want to stop you.”

“God damn it. I hurt you. I for-real hurt you.” Lavinia looked away. “We should’ve had the Safe Sex talk and the What We Like talk after all.”

Sally hunched her shoulders. After a long silence, Lavinia said sadly, “I’m sorry, baby. Jesus, I thought I was so tuned in to you. I guess when I see that bright, perky little butt of yours, and you, you’re so fuckin’ pretty, what do you want with a broken down old….”

“Stop!” Sally put out a hand to block the words.

“Don’t tell me you ain’t thought it, kid. I saw.” Lavinia could arch her eyebrows better than anyone, even when nothing else could move.

Sally’s face was red as a gift envelope on Chinese New Year. “Yes, I’ve thought it!” She didn’t add that it had even been part of the turn-on at first, the feeling of giving control to someone who (she could hardly think the words) didn’t deserve her.

“I don’t feel that way now,” she said firmly. “And I’m ashamed that I ever thought of your body as less than perfect.” She looked straight in Lavinia’s eyes and willed her to see that truth. Loving and penitent, she took in Lavinia’s grey streaks, the wrinkles around her eyes, the small pot belly.

Lavinia’s face stayed hard and so Sally couldn’t relax either. “Thanks for saying that,” Lavinia said slowly, “but I guess I should tell you something.”

Words like that are usually the high point of the conversation that follows. Sally tensed and Lavinia snorted weakly. “Loosen up, I’m just indulging some Jewish guilt here. Something you damn Chink Buddhists don’t know nothing about.”

Sally, who had been raised Christian, knew by now when Lavinia was teasing. “Alright, go ahead, you gweilo.” It was just the word her parents had used for Anglos; Sally wasn’t quick with witty comebacks.

Looking right at her, Lavinia said “So there was gorgeous young you, eager to give that nubile body into my grungy hands. Well shit, I knew it was wrong but I took you. It was hot, locking you tight and owning you even though I knew I didn’t really deserve you.”

Sally’s mouth dropped open. How could Lavinia echo that shameful inner thought? Had she talked in her sleep?

Lavinia nodded sadly. “So, listen babe. Go shit, and really think. Make sure you really wanna be stuck with me. I won’t hold you to nothing we said under stress. Just prom—” Lavinia clamped her mouth shut without asking for whatever promise she’d wanted.

“I don’t need to –”

“Shah. You at least need to shit. Get out of here a while. Shitbucket needs to be emptied anyways, you can make yourself useful.”

“But baby, I’m sure –”

Lavinia closed her eyes. “No automatic answers.”

Lavinia got as stubborn as a mule when you pushed her. Sally got up heavily, pulled the slosh chamber from the portable toilet, opened the rear doors and climbed out into a morning from paradise.

Eyes on the gravel, she shouldered the door closed with a slam.