Certain Requirements

by Elinor Zimmerman

  “Why not?”

  “Because everything I said still holds true.” She sounded as sad as I felt.

  The last night, she was there of course. But I thought about what she said, and I didn’t go up to her. I just waved. Kris was generously letting me leave my things at her place while I toured with the bare essentials. I didn’t even have to really move out.

  Kris and I had planned a final good-bye breakfast before I left. She’d offered to drive me to Damien’s place in the Sunset, where the cast was boarding a charter bus. Instead, I decided to leave in the early hours of the morning and get breakfast alone at a diner before taking a taxi to Damien’s. I snuck out early with my two suitcases, thanking God that Kris was a heavy sleeper. I left her a note that read,

  Dear Kris,

  I couldn’t face a good-bye. I’m sorry. You know how I feel, so you might understand why. I know you deserve better than a note.

  Thank you for everything. I could not be doing any of this without you. I can never repay you. I am so grateful, not just for all you’ve done for me, but also for the time we spent together. You are an amazing person, Kris, and you deserve a full and happy life.

  I know sneaking out might make you want nothing to do with me, but if you do want to talk, I’m here.

  love,

  Phoenix.

  With that, I was off on tour.

  * * *

  It was strange to be both happy and heartbroken. I was thrilled with the show, with performing, with our adventures. I was also reeling from my split with Kris. Leaving a note was a coward move, and I felt embarrassed even as I felt hurt by her lack of interest. I couldn’t blame her—I was traveling, the timing was bad, and only she knew if she was ready or not—but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

  At the same time, the tour was incredible. We went to LA first. As the crew set up our theater, we rehearsed. Other than that, we schmoozed to promote the show, and we had time to ourselves. I got to visit Connie and her family, which was a good if sometimes grating distraction from my heartbreak. The cast had access to our rehearsal space after hours, and Sasha and I used it to start playing with our own creation. We also all got temporary apartments, the fully furnished kind you rent by the week, with everyone but Mirah paired up as roommates. Sasha and I were housed together, which meant we were in nonstop creative mode. We talked about themes and blocking while I scrambled us eggs every morning. We experimented with movement after and before rehearsing. We even roped some of the other aerialists into it and got their opinions. At a party before our LA open, we started blabbering about our unnamed, totally undeveloped show to an excitable producer, who asked to see a rough version.

  “Can we send you a video when we’re got it a little more polished?” I asked.

  “Sure. I’m always looking for new projects,” she said and handed us a business card. Sasha and I managed to wait until we got home to jump up and down.

  Going on tour had been the best possible move for my career. The show was already sold out most nights in LA and had strong sales in other cities just based on the buzz from our San Francisco opening. We’d visit six more cities on our tour, finishing in New York right around Christmas. Then I’d see my family before returning to San Francisco and maybe Kris. Every time I thought about that “maybe,” my soaring heart sank.

  Our LA opening was even better than our first night in San Francisco. We were a flawless team. The audience was responsive to everything, and jumped out of their seats to cheer the minute the lights went down. Connie and Nick yelled louder than anybody. For a second while I took my bow, I expected to see Kris in the audience, but of course I didn’t.

  The second night was even better. The Sunday matinee was not. In the three weeks since the show had opened, I’d learned one thing for sure: Sunday afternoons had a lot more people who hadn’t read the reviews. The tickets were a little cheaper, and parents kept bringing little kids who expected Ariel. Kids who loudly expected Ariel and cried when the mermaid died at the end. It was not anyone’s favorite, but at least it was mostly confined to one afternoon a week.

  That Sunday was no different. Little kids were crying and booing us as we took our bows. We were all a little drained. I thought I was hallucinating Kris in the front for a second. Then she stood up. As we left the stage, she walked toward me.

  My mouth hung open, full of questions I couldn’t articulate.

  “Hi,” she said, handing me a bouquet of rumpled daisies. “I got these in a rush. I’m sorry.”

  I looked her up and down. She was dressed impeccably, with dark jeans, boots, a tucked-in dress shirt, striped blue and green tie, and a tailored blazer with a blue and green polka dot pocket square. She looked gorgeous. I, meanwhile, had a weird wig on, stage makeup, a fake-shell bra, and I was hobbling around in a mermaid tail. Not to mention that I was dripping with sweat from performing. Sure, she’d seen me like this a dozen times, but it wasn’t exactly the reunion I’d been hoping for.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “I came to see you. Can we talk?”

  I looked around at the crowd, exasperated. “You’re going to get heat stroke.”

  “I wanted to look nice for you.”

  “You’re missing San Francisco Pride right now. I can’t believe you’re missing Pride for this.”

  “I made a mistake,” she said.

  “Which was?” I arched an eyebrow at her. “Honestly, I’m not sure you did. You told me how you felt, and it hurt, but I can’t fault you for that.”

  “The night before you left, I realized that I didn’t want you to leave. I do want to try. I had this whole elaborate plan. I was going to make you breakfast and tell you how I felt, and I went out and got you roses. I started moving up the timeline for the sale, so I’ll be done earlier and I can do some other things I want to do before you’re back, and I can come see your shows whenever you want. But then I fell asleep, and when I woke up, you’d left me that note and you were gone.”

  “And phones don’t exist?” An exiting audience member gave me a look. I glared back at him.

  “I wanted to respect what you wanted. But Eric told me that it wasn’t fair if I didn’t tell you how I really felt. I do love you. I do want you. I’m scared. I was scared, and I freaked out.” She reached for my hand.

  “I think it’s too late.” I pulled away.

  “I meant it when I said I wasn’t ready. I don’t know how to be a girlfriend. I’m not prepared for all these next steps in my life. But ready or not, I am in love with you, and I want to try. Could we try?” she asked softly. I could see tears in her eyes. “Please, Phoenix, can we just try?”

  “That’s what I wanted and you said no.”

  “I know. I needed time. I thought I needed a lot of time but I knew in a week that I do want to try. I wasn’t kidding when I said I didn’t know how to be a girlfriend. This is what I meant. Sometimes it takes me longer than it should to figure out what I want. Sometimes I don’t know.”

  “Then say you don’t know! Say you need to think about it! Don’t say, ‘Let’s see in six months, no promises,’ and show up two weeks later saying you want to try.” I tried, too late, to keep my voice down. This was becoming a scene.

  Kris looked away. “I’m sorry. I thought I was saying I didn’t know.”

  “Yeah? Well you said it in a way that sounded like a no.”

  She turned back to me, her eyes brimming with tears. “I don’t know how to do this, Phe.”

  “Nobody knows how to do this. We’re all figuring it out as we go along. I know I am.”

  “I want to try. I’m scared.”

  “Scared of what though?”

  “That we’ll break each other’s hearts.”

  Damn, I thought. I understood that. I’d messed up with that fear too. My hesitation melted. I offered her my hand. “I’ll be careful with your heart. I’m not perfect, and I’ll make mistakes, but I will be careful with your heart. And you’ll be careful with mine.”
<
br />   She put her hand in mine. “So, we can try?”

  “We can try.”

  “What does that look like? What do I need to do while you’re on the road?”

  “You don’t need to do anything. But I’d like it if you asked me about my day. Tell me about your day too. And call me and text me when you miss me. Make an effort to keep in touch. Talk about your feelings. Other than that, do things you want to do and think would be good for you. I don’t think you need to rush into getting another job as soon as the sale is final, but do what you want to do.”

  Kris’s face lit up. “I always thought, you know, that it was my fault with Laurie. And maybe it was, because I stopped paying attention in some important ways. I thought it was something intrinsic about me, though, that I couldn’t do enough as a partner. But I can call you. I can talk to you.”

  “Maybe my requirements are more reasonable?” I nudged her. Kris wrapped her arms around me. “Years and years ago, I was learning salsa, and I was learning with this guy, a friend of mine. It was so hard. We couldn’t get the rhythm right, but every time the instructor would stop us and demonstrate with me, it’d be fine. Then one class my friend was sick, and I ended up dancing with a girl who’d been going to class longer and whose partner was out too. And it was the easiest thing in the world. We both had dance backgrounds so we could keep time. We were both comfortable. It was like flying. I told her I couldn’t believe how easy it was. And she told me that it is with a good partner. ‘You’ve just been dancing with the wrong person,’ she said. I think, Kris, you’ve got an idea in your head about who you are in a relationship based on one relationship, but you were dancing with the wrong person. I don’t think it has to be what it was.”

  She held me tighter, so our faces were inches apart. “I know that now, thanks to you. You’ve changed my life, you know.”

  “You changed mine too.” I slung my arms around her. “So, I told you what I want from you. What do you want from me?”

  “You to love me?”

  “Already there.”

  “Show me some creative uses for the trapeze?” she asked. “I never told you but I’ve been curious about the possibilities since the first time I saw your videos.”

  “Why didn’t you say so before? I could have shown you months ago. I’ll take you to my rehearsal space right now if you like. Anything else?”

  “Kiss me. We’ll figure out the rest as we go along.”

  I did. We did.

  About the Author

  Elinor Zimmerman once performed trapeze and lyra hoop under the name Elinor Radical. Today she spends her time writing instead. Her work has appeared in the anthology Unspeakably Erotic: Lesbian Kink and The Lesbrary. She lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her wife, kid, and dog.

  Website: http://www.elinorzimmerman.com/

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