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Walk Me Home (In the Dead of Night)
“Do you think it’s possible to fall in love with someone in just one night?” Vera asked, her words slurring as she downed the last of her vodka tonic. She wrinkled her nose as the strength of the last few dregs hit her.
Bridget snorted, her head propped on her hand on the table, having just finished her last glass of red wine. She had got through a bottle… hadn’t she? Or was it two? She couldn’t be sure at this point. All she knew was she felt warm, she felt good, and-
“No,” she responded easily, her eyes lazily tracking over the bar around them, “I don’t.”
“I think I fell in love with someone in just one night once,” Vera carried on, drunk and oblivious to Bridget’s reply, “Jake. He was so… nice. ”
Bridget choked on her laughter, causing Vera to look at her offended.
“ Nice? ” Bridget said, “flowers are nice… the sun on your face is nice. Love is…”
She gathered her slow moving thoughts. Way too much wine, Bridget.
“Love is electric, Vera.”
Vera raised an eyebrow, but Bridget had caught her attention. She carried on.
“Love is all about connection, and a desire to know all there is to know about someone, to love them in spite of their flaws. It’s easy to feel…”
Bridget paused as she felt her wine reappear at the back of her throat. Vera was enraptured.
“It’s easy to feel euphoric around someone, but love is security. Stability. You can’t wait to talk to them again, even if they’ve just left and even if you’ve talked to them every day for a year. Love is feeling secure in their affections.”
Vera nodded.
“ Oh and naturally sexual attraction, there has to be that fire there too,” Bridget added thoughtfully. Vera laughed, a slight blush appearing on her cheeks.
“So you really don’t believe it’s possible to feel that in just one night?”
Bridget shook her head, her eyes sparkling as she looked at Vera.
“Vera, I don’t believe it’s possible to feel that in a year, let alone in one night.”
Vera sighed, resting her elbows on the table in front of her.
“It’s just as well,” she said, her voice muffled as she covered her face with her hands, “as I walked in on Jake fucking the nurse the other day.”
Bridget frowned, reaching out and lightly rubbing Vera’s arm in an attempt at comfort.
“Oh, Vera.”
****
“Sorry, all our taxis are busy at the moment and we’re booked up for the next hour. Earliest I can get someone to pick you up is at 3am.”
Bridget sighed and pinched her nose, considering her next move.
“Don’t worry about it, thank you.”
She hung up, and hugged her arms tight against her. She had chosen a light jacket, perfect for a night out, but certainly not for the possibility of walking home after the bar closed. She lived several blocks away, doable, but she was reluctant at the thought.
“I can drive you back, love!”
Bridget turned around and watched as a large man walked toward her. He was clearly drunk, zig-zagging toward her, his friends cheering him on in the background.
“What’s a pretty woman like you doin’ all alone at night?”
She cringed at his words, preparing herself as the man got closer. When he was only a few feet away from her, Bridget felt an arm wrap loosely around her shoulders.
“Sorry I’m late, spunky,” a brunette spun her round, her green eyes locking with Bridget’s blue dazed eyes, “got stuck in traffic.”
Bridget took a few seconds, her reaction times blunted by both the alcohol and the beautiful face of the woman opposite her, but she tried to pull out of the stranger’s grasp.
“Do you trust me?” the brunette whispered, loosening her grip, and Bridget huffed. Of course she didn’t trust a complete stranger, but she knew it was her only option to escape this guy.
She nodded minutely, and the brunette grinned, her green eyes sparkling. Bridget was pulled tighter into the strangers embrace, and lips grazed the shell of her ear.
“Bets on being called dirty lezzos? ” the woman murmured. Bridget laughed.
“Either that or cat-calls for making out,” Bridget responded dryly, causing the brunette to laugh too. It was a nice laugh, Bridget admitted to herself. As if on cue, hollers and cat-calls, chants of kiss, kiss, kiss, broke their moment, and Bridget just locked eyes with the stranger, rolling her eyes but smirking triumphantly.
“You’re a smart one,” the brunette responded, before looking out over Bridget’s head, “you bunch of absolute charmers can fuck right off thank you very much! I’ll be taking my lady home now!”
The men cleared away, grumbling to each other in disappointment, and Bridget sighed in relief.
“Thank you.”
“It was nothing,” the brunette shrugged easily, “but if you don’t mind I’ll wait with you until your ride appears… just in case they return.”
“I don’t have one, actually,” Bridget looked around at the empty streets, “I’ve tried several cab companies.”
“And no significant other to ride in on a white steed?” the woman casually asked, her dimpled grin contagious as Bridget responded in kind.
“No, I don’t have a girlfriend, ” Bridget replied, the alcohol making her feel bolder as she emphasised that last word. Why not have fun with it?
“My lucky night!” the woman said, “do you live far?”
“Eight blocks east,” Bridget pointed her thumb over her shoulder, causing the brunette to snort.
“East is that way,” she responded, pointing over her own shoulder, “and at this point I insist on walking you home, to make sure you get there in one piece.”
“How do I know you won’t murder me?”
“You said you trusted me earlier… plus those heels you’re wearing look deadlier than anything I could pull from my pockets.”
Bridget debated the walk ahead of her, and quickly came to a firm decision. Whoever this woman was, she felt that they had formed a strong temporary bond.
“Alright then,” she felt the cool air of the night sobering her in small increments, but the buzz of the alcohol was still there, “walk me home, stranger.”
“Oh shit! Sorry, yeah - my name’s Franky.”
“I’m Bridget.”
“ Bridget? ” Franky raked her tongue along her teeth as she scrutinised Bridget closely. Bridget stood her ground, chin tilted defiantly, even as she watched that tongue move.
“Nuh,” Franky finally shook her head, “lead on, Gidget.”
****
“So tell me about yourself, Gidge.”
Bridget stumbled slightly, and Franky placed her hand on the small of her back to steady her. The touch was just one of many that Franky had casually done in the last five minutes of walking, and Bridget had to silently applaud her subtlety. Maybe it was the wine or maybe it was the fact that Franky’s mere eyes on her had her in such a daze, a little hot under the collar, but either way Bridget wanted Franky’s hands on more than just the small of her back.
Snap out of it, Bridget, she told her drunken self sternly, she’s attractive, but that doesn’t mean anything.
“What do you want to know?”
“What do you do for a living? Do you have any hobbies? Who were you out with tonight? What height are you without those really hot heels?”
Bridget laughed at the quick-fire questions, holding her hand up to stop Franky.
“Okay, okay,” she replied, “I’m a forensic psychologist working in a prison, I collect coins and play the piano, I was out with my friend from work, and I’m just over five feet without these designer heels.”
Franky let out a low whistle.
“Not bad for drunk,” she commented, “and that’s a whole lotta interesting information, Gidge. Not hearing anything I don’t like quite yet.”
“I’d like to know your answers.”
“I’ll give you one. Take your pick.”
Franky was certainly mysterious, and Bridget found herself debating the best of the questions. She wanted to know the answer to all of them. Who was this woman who just appeared out of thin air and made her feel so… bothered?
“Okay,” Bridget nodded, “hobbies. Let’s go with hobbies.”
“Cooking,” Franky stated simply, “I love to cook, pretty good at it too, if I do say so myself.”
“Are you a chef?” Bridget asked, trying to act casual about it. She knew she was caught, however, when Franky grinned.
“That’s all you’re getting.”
“One more fact about you,” Bridget countered, “just one. ”
“Fine,” Franky conceded with a sigh, “I am studying law. That’s it, that’s everything.”
Bridget battled with pushing for more, but decided to accept it.
****
“Are those heels not killing your feet?”
Bridget shook her head. The heels were, of course, absolutely killing her feet and every step was pressing down on what she expected to be several blisters.
“Nuh, I’m fine.”
“Of course you are,” Franky said, making it very clear that she didn’t believe it at all , “you know I can probably carry you the rest of the way.”
“Yeah, right,” Bridget huffed, amused.
Franky pulled her shirt sleeves up, revealing colourful ink spread across the skin of both biceps. A phoenix greeted Bridget on one arm, perched upon a clock, while the other arm boasted a busty naked woman.
Wow. Bridget’s mouth went dry as she felt heat creeping all over.
“See?” Franky pinched her muscles, trying to look strong and flex as she grinned at Bridget, “could easily carry you.”
Bridget’s mind immediately went to more intimate scenarios. Could Franky carry her over a threshold? Throw her down onto a bed in a frenzy? lift her, hold her up against a wall, and fuck her thoroughly without Bridget’s feet hitting the ground?
“I’ll pass for now,” Bridget said, struggling to form words as she felt the desire course through her, “but thanks.”
“Your loss,” Franky said, dropping her arms back to her sides and winking. Bridget’s hungry gaze wasn’t subtle.
Her loss indeed.
****
“So, are you married?”
They were halfway through their journey now, their pace slow as Bridget struggled in her heels and sobered up. She didn’t mind of course, a slow casual walk meant more time with the mysterious Franky.
“Defs not,” Franky said immediately, and Bridget was taken aback by the speed of the response.
“Any reason or…?”
“Not really,” Franky shrugged, “just haven’t found the right woman. I’m more trouble than I’m worth, so it takes a real special person to put up with me, let me tell you.”
“I don’t believe that for one second.”
Franky didn’t respond, lost in thought as they continued to amble forward. Their arms brushed occasionally, and Franky still found ways to lightly touch Bridget as a way of steering them, though it was becoming less often as Bridget found she could walk in a straight line. Never before had she wished she could be more drunk.
“I think I’d make a good girlfriend, y’know,” Franky said suddenly, and Bridget didn’t pause for one second.
“Why’s that?”
“I think if I loved someone, I’d love them fully. Like, I’d do anything to make it work with someone I found that connection with… it’d be a partnership and I’d pull my weight, meet them halfway. I’d want to build something amazing.”
“That’s exactly what a relationship should be.”
“Have you had a significant relationship before?” Franky asked.
Bridget considered the question.
“I suppose I have, yes,” she replied thoughtfully, “but it ended badly. I discovered she was cheating on me.”
“That sucks,” Franky kicked at a stone in her path, “I’ve never understood that, and to do it to you ? I mean, you’re a catch, Gidge. I don’t know how there could be anyone even compare to you.”
“Thanks I think,” Bridget said wryly, trying not to dwell too much on the one woman who completely broke her heart, “but I think if you can offer a woman what you said, Franky, she’d be a sucker to turn it down.”
“Yeah.”
They continued to walk, and Bridget couldn’t help but feel like Franky would be such a catch herself.
****
“Why won’t you just admit that you need to take those heels off?”
“They’re fine. Really.”
“Fuck sake, Gidge, they’re clearly not. Why are you pretending?”
Bridget paused. They were only a few blocks from her house now, and Franky had watched her like a hawk since the beginning, seeing Bridget’s pace slow and the slight wince with every step. It sounded like Franky had finally reached the end of her tether.
“My house isn’t much further, and if I walk barefoot now it’ll only hurt more. Honestly, I’ll survive.”
“That’s not the point!”
“If my walking bothers you that much,” Bridget responded sharply, taken aback by Franky’s raised voice, “you can always turn around. I’ll be fine the rest of the way.”
Franky suddenly stopped walking.
“Fine,” she shrugged, crossing her arms, “enjoy the rest of your walk, might see you around.”
Bridget felt a sudden wave of sadness at the dismissal. For some reason, she had really hoped Franky would stick around, they’d continue their pleasant walk, and at the end maybe, just maybe, Bridget would get her number. See her again.
Wasn’t meant to be so leave it, she thought to herself.
“Goodbye, Franky.”
She left Franky in the middle of the pavement, crossing her arms, as Bridget continued her walk, each step getting smaller and smaller. She didn’t have to hide her winces now, and she mentally calculated how many more torturous steps until she reached her door. Two more blocks she figured. She’d make it. She thought of the annoyance on Franky’s face.
It was only a minute later that she heard footsteps behind her. Light, but fast. Was it wrong that already she recognised those footsteps and felt her heartbeat speed up at the sound?
“Gidge, wait…”
Franky appeared at her side, frowning. Bridget acknowledged her with a small nod, and they continued their slow pace.
“Look, I’m sorry, yeah?” Franky attempted softly, “I have… well, I get angry really quickly. 0 to 100, and it fucks me over more often than not. I’m not proud of it and I am trying... I just can’t understand why you’d carry on putting yourself in discomfort like that, but I reacted badly. Sorry.”
Bridget thought for a second. Franky got angry, she cooled off, she apologised. As far as Bridget was concerned, everything was right in the world again, mainly because Franky was back at her side. Bridget had already suspected that Franky was dependable, it was good to know that even after a small disagreement, they were back side-by-side. A fleeting part of her mind acknowledged that she could learn to live with those disagreements.
“It’s okay,” Bridget accepted the apology, “and I’m sorry too. I’m so used to thinking of myself, I don’t often see how my decisions affect others.”
“That sounds like such a shrink response,” Franky laughed, her entire demeanour light once more, “you must be sober.”
Bridget grinned, but as she took another step that grin turned grimace as she felt a particularly sore point on her foot. She hoped Franky wouldn’t catch it, but she was too late.
“Earlier you said you trusted me,” Franky said, “is that still the case?”
Earlier, Bridget hadn’t trusted Franky one bit. Now, however, beneath the starry skies and elevated by their companionable walk, Bridget felt herself nod. Absolutely.
Franky ducked down, bending her knees and motioned with her arms. She motioned to her back.
“All aboard, Gidge!”
“You cannot be serious!”
“Don’t let the train leave the station without ya, it’ll be a whole lot more painful. C’mon! Live a little!”
Bridget laughed, a full laugh that echoed out across the empty street. Franky remained in position, grinning. Bridget hobbled toward Franky and placed her hands on Franky’s shoulders, heaving herself up gracefully, with Franky’s hands catching her thighs. A soft and secure grip, and Bridget knew she wouldn’t fall.
“Are you sure you’re on my back? I don’t feel a thing,” Franky said, causing Bridget to swat her shoulder as her other arm fastened securely around Franky’s front.
“You’re a terrible flirt, you know that right?”
“I’d say I’ve been pretty successful so far,” Franky responded, setting an easy pace, faster than before but still leisurely, “a hot chick on my back. Shame you’re not round my front, but we’ll get there, Gidge.”
Bridget wondered how many people on the street were woken by her laughter ringing out.
****
“Well, this is my house.”
“Shit.”
Franky gently let go of Bridget, who winced as she felt the stabbing pain once more of her heels. Just walk up the pathway, get in the door, and then throw them off, she told herself, the mantra repeating.
“Classy neighbourhood,” Franky looked around at the neat rows of bungalows, “very Stepford Wives. ”
Bridget rolled her eyes. She saw a curtain twitch in the house across from her, and knew she was going to get a phone call tomorrow.
“It certainly is a street for nosey neighbours,” was all she said.
“Well, I guess this is it then,” Franky put her hands in her pockets, looking uncertain for the first time that night. It hadn’t been a long walk, but in the space of those several blocks, Bridget had got to know Franky just enough to know that she didn’t want this to be goodbye.
“I guess so,” she said evenly, debating whether to be bold enough to give her number to Franky, “it’s certainly been the best walk I’ve ever been on, and I’ve hiked Mt. Kilimanjaro, so thank you.”
“No sweat,” Franky smiled, “So… maybe I’ll see you around, Gidge.”
No. Bridget couldn’t wait on chance or fate or a ‘maybe’. She needed to see Franky again.
“I’ll give you my number,” Bridget fumbled with her phone in her jacket pocket, before pulling it out. Franky leaned in close, a guise to see the number better when really Bridget knew that she just wanted another reason to be this close. Who knew when it would happen again? Soon, she hoped. Franky copied the number into her own phone and hit ‘save’, before sliding it back into her jeans.
“I’m glad I met you,” Franky said, her green eyes meeting Bridget’s, sincere in every word she uttered, “I feel like I know you but don’t, if that makes sense?”
“Absolutely,” Bridget replied, “this walk has been enlightening. ”
“I’m glad,” Franky seemingly got the response she needed, “I guess there’s just one more thing before I go.”
“What’s that?”
Franky leaned in, slowly, her hand moving up to cup Bridget’s cheek. Bridget closed her eyes as they both closed the gap, their lips meeting in the sweetest kiss Bridget had ever experienced. There was something so pure about it, a lightness that enveloped her, and she forgot to breathe. It was electric.
Franky pulled away, much to Bridget’s disappointment, and rested her forehead against Bridget’s. Bridget opened her eyes and met dazed green.
“Yep, that’ll do it,” Franky murmured, her just-kissed lips curling up into a smile, “I’ll call you, Gidge.”
Bridget could only nod, speechless, as Franky pulled away and, with a wink, retreated back the way she came.
It was a few minutes until Bridget moved, and she brought her hand up to caress her lips where Franky’s had just been. In just one night, she had quite possibly fallen in love.