A Matter of Trust: A Carlsbad Village Lesbian Romance

“I used to date a waitress and she said that if you have a table of nothing but women, you ask all of them for their IDs. It flatters them and then you get a bigger tip.”

Morgan’s mouth dropped open.

“The sad part is,” she began, chuckling “I can totally see how that would work!”

“Well, if this teaching thing doesn’t work out, I now know how to hustle customers as a waitress,” Naomi added. She was sitting directly across from Chloë and now she leaned forward, tilted her head towards Morgan and said, “By the way, I have never seen her happier!”

“Oh, good lord,” Morgan moaned.

Chloë beamed.

“Whatever you’re doing, keep it up!” Naomi said.

“I don’t know if I can discuss what I’ve been doing in a family restaurant,” Chloë said, earning peals of laughter from Morgan’s best friend. Even Morgan, who Chloë could tell was embarrassed by the attention, joined in, trying to give Chloë a faux-stern glare at the same time.

“Don’t make me separate you two,” Morgan said.

“You should be happy,” Naomi chided. “I’m saying I approve of your lady and our drinks haven’t even gotten here yet.”

Chloë, not wanting Deb to feel left out, asked, “So, Deb, how did you and Naomi meet?”

“At my job,” Deb answered, offering nothing more.

“Okay…and what is it that you do?”

“I work for the Social Security Administration.”

“Don’t get the wrong idea, young lady,” Naomi said. “I wasn’t going in there to start collecting benefits. I needed a new card because I lost mine and Deb was the one who helped me.”

“She had kept her card in her purse,” Deb added in a reproving tone. “You should never carry your Social Security with you. It should be kept at home.”

Chloë almost burst out laughing. This woman was just too square for words, especially when compared to Naomi’s breezy friendliness, but who was she to judge? Besides, maybe behind closed doors Deb was a tigress.

Dinner went by pleasantly and conversation flowed easily. Even Deb managed to contribute, although that was mainly thanks to Morgan who kept frequently prodding the woman for tidbits about herself. (“I collect visitor passes from national parks. I only have seventeen more before I have the complete set,” was the most interesting tidbit she offered.)

Chloë could tell that Naomi was a very important person in Morgan’s life and so she certainly put in the effort of getting to know Naomi more by asking questions about her life and her career teaching. Fortunately, history had been one of Chloë’s favorite subjects in high school and Chloë shamelessly pandered to Naomi by bringing up her interest in ancient Greek civilization.

Sometime later, Naomi said to Chloe, “I understand that you are going to be a business owner soon! Congratulations! That already puts you ahead of the guys this one has dated.” And she pointed her fork at Morgan, who groaned.

Morgan looked at Chloë.

“I’m surprised she made it to dessert before she brought up my dating history. But they weren’t all terrible,” she said, turning towards Naomi. “Esteban wasn’t all that bad.”

Naomi pretended to gag, making Chloë giggle.

“Esteban,” she said directly to Chloë, “lived with his parents.”

“Hey! I live with my parents!” Chloë teased.

“He was forty-two,” Naomi stated. “And I thought Morgan told me you had a tiny house?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s in my parents’ backyard.”

“Esteban lived in his parents’ attic. You know, at the top of their actual house.”

When the dinner was over, Naomi hugged Chloë in the parking lot.

“Thank you for coming into Morgan’s life,” she told Chloë. “She needed you. But you haven’t taught her the secret lesbian handshake yet, have you?”