Goodnough Dike

By R J. Bisso

This is a novel about the life of a woman, who happens to be a bit clumsy, socially awkward and manages to get herself into humorous and heart felt situations. Jess struggles with her desire for a meaningful relationship with others, while trying to discover herself.

Through her process of self discovery, she has a tendency to drink and smoke a little too much ends up with women she wishes she hadnt, and relies on her relationship with her brother Jake to see her through as her primary confidant.

Jesss family and past relationships make her sarcastic and witty. Her guardedness is to protect her heart, which wants to love if only she would let it.

A near death experience provokes thoughts about life that could lead her down a different path.

A mystery woman haunts her, showing up in the strangest places. Are they meant to be? Enter Goodnough Dike to find out. It promises to elicit feelings from each end of the spectrum and take you on an enjoyable roller coaster ride of emotion.

• Language: English
• Publisher: iUniverse
• Release date: Jan 9, 2001
• ISBN: 9781462078295

R J. Bisso

R. J. Bisson resides in Northampton, MA, a.k.a. Lesbianville, USA. This is her first novel. She works in the field of Mental Health, plays music, sports and loves animals. Look for her second novel Penalty Box, a murder mystery in the near future.

Book preview

All Rights Reserved © 2000 by Renay J. Bisson

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the permission in writing from the publisher.

Writers Club Press

an imprint of iUniverse.com, Inc.

For information address:

iUniverse.com, Inc.

5220 S 16th, Ste. 200

Lincoln, NE 68512

www.iuniverse.com

The following story is entirely fiction,

as well as, all of its’ characters.

Any similarity or likenesses to people

are purely coincidental.

ISBN: 0-595-15466-2

ISBN: 9781462078295 (eBook)

Printed in the United States of America

In Memory

of: Raymond Joseph Bisson

He was the best father a girl could ask for. He was a teacher of all that he knew and shared his gifts with all four of his daughters and anyone else who wanted to learn. He knew patience and acceptance and i carry a strong sense of pride about him and what he instilled and inspired within me. Thank you, dad. You are truly missed.

Contents

EPIGRAPH

FOREWORD

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TW O

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

EPILOGUE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

EPIGRAPH 

"To every thing there is a season,

And time to every purpose under the heaven:

A time to be born, and a time to die;

A time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;

A time to kill, and a time to heal;

A time to break down, and a time to build up;

A time to weep, and a time to laugh;

A time to mourn, and a time to dance;

A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;

A time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;

A time to get, and a time to lose;

A time to keep, and a time to cast away;

A time to rend, and a time to sew;

A time to keep silence, and a time to speak;

A time to love, and a time to hate;

A time of war, and a time of peace."

—ECCLESIASTES 3:1-8—

FOREWORD 

This is the author’s first attempt at writing a fiction novel. She did it on a dare from a close friend who was tired of hearing her complaints about the lack of lesbian fiction available for purchase.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS 

I would like to thank everyone who helped me to proofread and edit the original manuscript. I would also like to thank mary and my family for the continued support you have offered throughout all of my endeavors. You have shown me unconditional love and given me the strength to take risks that have allowed me to pursue and to fulfill dreams.

CHAPTER ONE 

Truly to moderate your mind and speech when you are angry, or else to hold your peace, betokens no ordinary nature.

—Cicero

It was a wet, clammy night…you know the kind of night where everything just sticks to you like maple syrup. I was exhausted, but in need of some outside stimulus. I made the decision to go out to the local bar, where there was always access to some stimuli. Due to the weather, I threw some gel in my hair, the slick look and to accent that I added a sleeveless shirt and some not so tight torn blue jeans. My Doc Martins did the trick for footwear…and out the door I went.

I noticed my ex-lover’s car parked in the lot, and my stomach turned. Not because I still loved her, but because the thought of her made me want to puke. I hesitated for a moment. Did I even want to deal with this shit tonight? What would be her game tonight? Whom would she be hanging all over trying to get me to react? The goddesses were the only ones who knew and with my behavior lately they wouldn’t dream of giving me any clues.

I decided to lean on my Jeep and smoke a cigarette before I went in. My thoughts wandered to the past. I remember her when she was so sweet and passionate, she sucked me in…all of me. I’d come home from work to find dinner on the table, flowers or even sometimes a note to come upstairs to eat, which was my personal favorite. Her scent, Christ did she make me crave her like no food I ever have had in my life. Her body, so tight, yet soft at the same time. SLAM!.. .Jesus! I yelled, as a car door was shut so loud it scared the shit out of me, not to mention, snapped me out of my day dream. I realized the cigarette had burned to my fingers and I didn’t even remember taking a second drag. I decided to light another since I missed the enjoyment of the first. Before I knew it, I was off and running in my mind again. It seemed like hours before the crash of thunder snapped me from my hypnotic state…with that I ran to the bar.

While paying my entry cover, I noticed the same faces doing the same things with the same people. As I age I notice the more things change in my life, the more the rest of the world stays the same. I’ve also learned to love more intensely and hate beyond any reasonable measure. I’m the epitome of a walking talking yin-yang, or oxymoron, I guess that would depend on who you talked to. Most would tend to agree with the moron aspect. Sometimes I think my sign should have been Gemini. It seems like I see things from both sides. This leaves me often torn between me, myself and I. Finally, in the middle of all this profound thought, I made it to the bar. I ordered a shot of Jack Daniel’s and a pint of my favorite beer.

As the warm feeling started to come over me a cold one replaced it. I finally saw her…yeah, the ex. I noticed that she saw me but pretended not to. This town just isn’t big enough, as the old saying goes. I play it cool and act like I don’t give a shit. My anger towards her can be almost uncontrollable at times and I want to punch her right in the face. Why? Because she broke my ever trusting heart. How would that fly in court? I didn’t think so. I turned to the bar and ordered my second shot of JD. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long one.

I watched the bartender work the crowd. She thinks she’s the cat’s meow. I think she’s the cat’s ass if you ask me. I have a hard time with people who only act nice towards you to get a tip, and as they walk away they’re stabbing you in the back. From what I hear around town she’s done just about everything with everybody that you could imagine. I don’t know myself, don’t want to know, just don’t trust her, therefore.. won’t let her into my world…except to serve me a beverage or two.

I’ve been single and celibate for awhile now. It’s not that I haven’t had any opportunities. It’s just that I don’t dare take the risk. What risk, you ask? The risk of getting some kind of disease like HIV, syphilis or gonorrhea…okay, the risk I most fear is another broken heart. Sappy, I know…but I’m just not ready and if I don’t expose myself to it, it won’t happen.

The smoke in here tonight is almost more than I can bear and I smoke. I have to keep blinking to help to get the crap out of my contacts. The music is so loud that all I see is a bunch of people’s lips moving with no sound coming out. I guess I’ll put my name up for a game of pool, at least that might keep me interested in hanging around long enough to see if I can make it to midnight. As I arrive at the pool table I notice that the local shark is playing and I’m not sure what’s bigger her or her attitude. I’m not biased against heavier woman, it’s just that everybody calls her fatty bumblatty behind her back because she’s a two faced, back stabbing bitch. I guess it’s human nature to prey on people’s perceived weaknesses or downfalls. It’s hard not to rag on her because she thinks she’s god’s gift to women and the best looking thing to ever grace this town with their presence. So if nothing else, we amuse ourselves.

While I’m waiting for my name to come up for pool I decide to go check out the dance floor. The lights are less than spectacular but the sound system rocks. Some song is playing that I’ve never heard before, or at least one that I wish I’d never heard before. A tap on my shoulder gets my attention. When I turned around I was disappointed to see that it was this woman named Daze. She’s kind of the local drunk and wants to be my new best friend. I used to be a competitive bodybuilder and she wants me to train her, so every time I run into her we have the same exact conversation as if we had never talked about it before. She is so pathetic that I feel sorry for her. Therefore, I go through the same conversation over and over again. Daze asks me if I want to dance. I decline using the excuse that the music sucks, but the truth is I don’t want my ex thinking she’s my new thing or something. I know that I hate her, I just don’t want her to have any fuel to add to the fire. What ever fire that may be.

I go back to the pool table to see if my name is next and much to my surprise it is. Unfortunately though, bumblatty is still on the table. I debate erasing my name, I hate the thought of having to look at her for any extended period of time. A smile comes over my face as I witness her scratch on the eight ball. She noticed and made some wise crack towards me. I gave her my ‘Don’t fuck with me look’ so she decided to just walk away. Though she thought she was the biggest baddest butch in the east, I knew she was only the biggest. In a sick way I wish she had started something, I could use an outlet and my fist on her face would have felt wonderful. Of course this is only a passing thought. I don’t believe in violence. I just think about it all the time. There’s already too much hate in the world for us to be fighting against ourselves. This does not include ex’s, though.

I put my quarters in and racked the tightest rack of my pool-playing career. I had not noticed who I was playing against until I looked up from the rack. I was taken aback by her beauty but immediately noticed she had what I call bitchattude. You know, the attitude that says, don’t even think about approaching me, don’t look at me, I’ve got lots of walls, and I already have all the friends I need. I looked away the minute I noticed that my charm would not be a factor in getting through her walls. I’m not one to be overwhelmed by physical appearances but this woman had something else. It was almost haunting. Her green eyes said more than she wanted me to see. I saw myself in some twisted way in them.the pain, the distrust. I felt as if I just had to get to know her but didn’t dare to because of my fear of rejection. This woman could knock me to my knees with one negative verbal blow. It was her break and nothing fell. I attempted some shot that I couldn’t begin to tell you about because I could feel her presence. I felt as if I knew her, but I knew that if I used the line don’t I know you from somewhere I’m sure it would have gone over like a fart in church. So I played the entire game without a word ever being spoken. I lost or she won, I’m not sure which. I offered her a handshake for her victory and she returned it without any eye contact.

It was time to relieve myself and then get another beer. It felt as if I was walking in slow motion because it seemed to take me ten minutes to get to the bathroom. Luckily there was no line. While sitting on the can, I couldn’t get that woman with the green eyes out of my thoughts. I felt an ache for her in every way imaginable and yet I had never seen her before or even heard her voice yet. Maybe I should risk it and try to talk to her? No, not tonight. I washed my hands, and shook my head in hopes of erasing green eyes from my thoughts.

I was amazed to hear myself order a diet soda when I finally got served after waiting for what seemed like hours for a drink. Something inside me told me that I had had enough and needed to keep my wits about me. I turned around to head back towards the pool table and slammed smack dab into the ex.

Graceful as usual, I see, she snipped.

I looked at her, smiled, and said, have a great night, dear, in the friendliest voice I could choke out, and then walked away. I knew ignoring her or not letting her get to me would annoy her to no end. Which meant a victory for me.

As I write my name up on the board for another chance at a pool game, I can’t stop myself from laughing out loud at the thought of pissing off my ex. She’s got to be fuming by now. It never took much to get her going. As I glance over to her I catch her pointing me out to Daze. What the hell is she up to? I’m not going to worry about it now because I know Daze will fill me in on the conversation later.

Sometimes I feel as if I’m living in a twenty-four hour, seven days a week live soap opera. How do I change things, though? This is the only queer joint in the town and I loathe the game of softball. Where the hell else would I go to be with others that I identify with? Actually, that’s the problem, I don’t identify at all with anyone here. If we didn’t all sleep with our own images we wouldn’t have a damn thing in common. I wish I had a circuit breaker box for my brain. That way I could turn on and off whatever part of my thought process I wanted to whenever I needed to.

As I look out the window by the pool table I can see that the rain is coming down in sheets. It has been a pretty dry summer so I guess the rain is a good thing, I just hate the fact that it only seems to rain on the weekends.

Jess! Jess is up!

I snapped out of my fog and proceeded to put my quarters in and rack.

I ran the table in two turns, and sunk the eight on my next break. In total it took about five minutes to play two games. I should mark this on the calendar for the best games of pool I have ever played. The next person up on the board was named Kaylie. I waited for a moment to see if she was one of the women that I didn’t know sitting around the table.