For the Love of April French

by Penny Aimes

  “I have,” he said firmly. “But if Sonia never does, that’s her right. You don’t have to forgive Marie. Frankly, I don’t forgive her. This is a responsibility, damn it. You said before she punished you for using your safeword. That’s not forgivable.”

  He was right. She knew he was right, and she knew that it was very possible Marie knew exactly what she was doing. That she was just gaslighting April by pretending she thought it was consensual. She had a mean streak. April had always found that sexy until things went wrong. She didn’t know if she could forgive Marie. Could you forgive someone if you never quite managed to blame them?

  “I, I... I don’t know,” she said, and she felt him relax his grip on her. It felt intentional, like if his brain hadn’t told his arms to stop squeezing, he’d still be holding on for dear life.

  “I’m sorry. We don’t have to talk about this anymore if you don’t want to.”

  “No, it’s...that’s almost the end of it. When she...said that, everything blew up. I moved out. Then after a while, I got sick of seeing her around town, at our places, and sick of everyone at work slipping and using my dead name and I just...left town with my tail between my legs.”

  He kissed the side of her head. “I think that was very brave.”

  No, I was weak, she thought. But was that the end of the world? She never promised anyone she was strong. What was so great about being strong, anyway? It felt like the most wonderful thing in the world to have a place where she could be weak and be loved, anyway. She hoped Dennis could understand that, that he didn’t have to be fierce and protective and in control all the time. She wanted more than anything to be a safe place for him, and the regret for the six months of lies was something palpable, a lump in her throat.

  “Hey,” he said, and she ripped herself away from her internal thoughts, wondering what could be next. She never would’ve guessed, in a thousand years.

  He ran his fingers over her scalp and through her hair. “Could I braid your hair?”

  Dennis

  He listened in mounting anger, quietly keeping it under control. She didn’t need him to rage and stomp around, but God damn it was hard! How dare they! How dare any of these people? Her own wife!

  He needed to calm down. And judging by her trembling, so did she. “Could I braid your hair?” He’d wanted to for a long time. He hoped she wouldn’t think it was weird; he knew many people would.

  But she turned to him and blinked, and said, “I’d love that.” He got up to grab the bag of stuff he’d bought for just this eventuality as she slithered down in the bed.

  “I didn’t get you any products because I don’t know what you use,” he explained. “But your hair is pretty straight, it shouldn’t be an issue.”

  “No, I never really put anything in it for a braid,” she agreed, and lay back down with her head in his lap. He brushed her hair first, and she closed her eyes and let out a deep-seated sigh; her battered face began to relax. Her hair was soft and yes, mostly straight, with a sort of gentle wave. The texture was totally different from Sonia’s or his sisters’, but he could adapt his experience without much problem.

  As he brushed her hair and slowly twined it into braids, he felt his temper ease and remembered he was happy. Actually, extremely happy. He laughed out loud, and she smiled and murmured, “What?”

  “Nothing. I’m just in a good mood,” he said. “You have so much beautiful hair. Have you been growing it out since your transition?”

  “Oh, even before. I had a ponytail since high school. It’s always been my one vanity,” she giggled. “My dream is to one day be able to sit on it.” She opened one eye and peered at him. “So is this more dolly kink?”

  “Not really,” he said. “I mean, I know it’s not...that far off. But I just like taking care of people, it’s not always kinky. I used to help braid my sisters’ hair. Three Black girls take a lot of braiding.” This was different from that—very different, since April wasn’t screeching that Keisha stole her doll or snapping bubble ties at his nose—but there was the same gentle intimacy to it that softened him in a way that he associated with family and the smell of coconut oil.

  “Did your mom teach you?” April asked.

  “My dad, actually. He took a lot of pride in being able to do it. He always said a man who couldn’t do everything his wife could was just a hired hand.” His dad was a quiet man, always ready to go with the flow of the more hotheaded personalities in the Martin household, but there was a lot Dennis had learned from him. He was always there when you needed him, with exactly what you needed to get the job done. Unflappable and prepared for anything.

  “He sounds like a cool guy,” she said. She sounded adorably sleepy.

  “He is. They’re both pretty great parents. I was lucky. Jason’s mom came around eventually, but he spent a lot of time hiding out at our place when he first came out.” It was the gentlest of overtures; he felt confident Jason would forgive him.

  “Yeah...my folks took it hard. I killed their son, you know.” She grimaced, and he paused to stroke her scalp gently, trying to radiate gentleness and care down through his fingertips. “But my mom and I came out of it okay. Closer than we were, maybe. My dad doesn’t know how to talk to me, but he never did.”

  “You mentioned you might be going home for Thanksgiving,” he remembered. Thanksgiving was getting close, now.

  “Oh. Yeah,” she said, in a flat voice. “That’s not happening. I wrote a coming-out letter to my grandma and I guess it didn’t go well? I didn’t listen to the whole voicemail this morning.”

  His hand stilled for a minute, and his heart ached for her, as it had for Jason all those years ago. He just couldn’t understand families like that. “Shit you had a bad day.”

  She opened her eyes and looked up at him with a quirked smile. “It...got better?”

  He resumed. “I’m sorry, lovely.”

  “It’s okay. My mom says she just needs space, and she’s probably right.”

  It was on the tip of his tongue to invite her home with him, but he held off for now. Bringing his white trans girlfriend to an enormous Black family holiday might be more stressful than kind. There would be some steep learning curves on both sides, no doubt, and there was always the Illinois of it all. He had faith in his immediate family and in April, but there were a lot of cousins...

  He shook his head and focused on the present. “I’m sure she is. Here, sit up, doll.”

  He folded the braids up on her head, messily, just to pin them out of the way. “That should hold you through tomorrow, anyway.” She leaned over and kissed him softly. He would’ve liked to go on doing that for hours, but he knew her face was sensitive, and there were still logistics to sort out.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “I got you some stuff to sleep in, too,” he said, tossing her a soft nightgown from one of his bags.

  “You’re ridiculous,” she laughed.

  “I’m foresighted. I got you a few T-shirts to choose from for tomorrow.” His smugness was partially affected—he knew she liked it—but he took a real pride in being able to think ahead and solve her problems before they even came up.

  “Did you get me luggage? ’Cause I didn’t even bring a carry-on.”

  “Oh, we’re driving,” he said, simply.

  “Oh, we are?” She began to strip out of her clothes.

  “Yes, we are.”

  She dropped the nightgown over her head. “What if I was looking forward to getting felt up by TSA?”

  His hands wrapped around her hips, settling on her butt. “Oh, I’m taking over those responsibilities, too,” he said.

  Her lips smiled against his kiss. “Yes please.”

  April

  The next day went a lot more smoothly. She only had another few hours of needlework left to go, and her neck was always easier than her face. She finger
ed the bruises on her chin as they sped along the highway back towards Austin; midday traffic was as light as it ever got in Dallas.

  “Does it hurt a lot?” Dennis asked.

  “The electrolysis itself doesn’t hurt at all, actually,” she said. “They numb you first. But they do that with a fuck-off big needle, and they have to keep inserting and re-inserting to squirt lidocaine in different directions. It feels like a sewing machine. The bruises are where I flinched.” She smiled to show it wasn’t a big deal, but she could tell he was starting to see through that one. Learning to let him see her flinch was going to be hard, but knowing he knew, and he cared, and wanted to protect her...that was worth it.

  “I can’t believe you’ve done this three times already since we met,” he said, shaking his head.

  “I’m used to pain,” she said blithely.

  He nodded. “I can see I’m going to have to take things up a notch.”

  She shivered pleasurably. “Just no needleplay, Sir.”

  “Absolutely not,” he agreed.

  They made it to Austin just in time for the evening traffic to kick in there. By the time they made it to her apartment downtown, Dennis was happy to stay there rather than battle the rest of the way south to his unfinished house.

  She settled on the foot of the bed and began to ice her face. Dennis approached from behind and rubbed her shoulders.

  “Mm, that feels nice.”

  “You ready for that orgasm?” he joked. He grinned at her when she fumbled the ice pack and almost dropped it.

  “Um... I mean, I wasn’t...uh, if you—”

  He laughed. “Hey, I know you’re pretty wrung out. What do you think about ordering in Chinese and watching a movie for tonight?”

  “That sounds perfect,” she said, and smiled.

  “You don’t have a TV, though,” he pointed out. “Have we ever talked about how you don’t have a TV?”

  She smiled again. “I don’t think so.” The only time they’d spent this many consecutive hours together, it hadn’t been in her space. “It’s not like a snooty too-good-for-TV thing, I just don’t have space.”

  “You do have space for six bookshelves, though.”

  “I watch a lot of TV!” she protested. “I just do it on my phone or laptop. Honestly, that’s how I do most of my reading these days, I just keep my books around for sentimental value.”

  He gave her an affectionate squeeze. “Millennial.”

  “Aren’t you a millennial, too?” She frowned.

  “I really have no idea,” he said. “You could mount a TV over there. I could do it for you.”

  She squealed happily and flopped backwards on the bed.

  “Are you okay?” he asked, leaning down over her. She reached up and let her hands clasp behind his neck, drawing him even closer.

  “I’m wonderful. I was just overcome by domestic warm fuzzies.” Her mind was racing. Dennis was her boyfriend. Dennis was with her. Dennis was going to be here tomorrow, and the next day, and the next one. If she needed a TV mounted she could call her boyfriend.

  God, did she even know how to be a girlfriend? She’d been a husband and, very briefly, a wife. She’d been a one-night stand, a friend with benefits and a rest stop. But a girlfriend?

  Maybe they could figure it out together. They would have things to navigate. About race, about gender, about sexuality, about a full-time relationship that was also a kinky one. But maybe they could figure it out together.

  He closed the gap between their lips and pressed a fast, chaste kiss to hers. “I could’ve hung a TV as your friend.”

  “No, that’s way too intimate,” she murmured, and pushed up with her elbows to chase down more kisses. Once she captured his lips she sank back again and pulled him with her. He kissed her more and more thoroughly, lips and then tongue exploring. The joy that had taken root in her chest at the words my only girl swelled again at her ribs, pressing against the confinement.

  She hadn’t felt joy like this in a long time, and it felt out of place now; there was a painful pressure in her chest as her heart swelled against the scars that kept it pinched and wary. There wasn’t space for it. He came up for air and looked at her, brown eyes shadowed with concern.

  “Does it hurt? Because of your face?”

  It didn’t hurt too much—no worse than a bad sunburn—but the question made her self-conscious. She bit her lip. “Maybe we should stop,” she said reluctantly.

  He slid down until he knelt at the foot of the bed, between her dangling legs, and lifted her Wonder Woman T-shirt to press a kiss to the soft curve of her stomach. She felt the rasp of his chin against the tender skin as he nuzzled against her, and she traced her nails over his scalp as he kissed her again and again. His fingers wrapped around the waistband of her jeans and tugged them down her legs, and she braced to lift her butt, letting him.

  She didn’t know where this was going, but she surrendered to him and the moment, let the feeling of being under his control wash over her again and crack open her chest to let the joy spill out all over.

  He kissed her thighs, her knees, her calves, lifting each leg and pressing kiss after kiss against her skin, and she was glad again that he couldn’t see her face, this time because she was crying. Again, it was more sensual than sexual, and the most tender thing anyone had every done for her. She wiped her eyes as he stood up and reached out a hand to draw her up from the bed to one more kiss. Then she went to find her laptop in a daze, as he called the Chinese place.

  As if it mattered to her what they watched, as long as he kept touching her like that.

  Dennis

  When morning came on Saturday, they talked about going back to his place, but they never got around to it. He had packed a few extra shirts in his bag for Dallas. They made breakfast, and as he did his trick with the eggs once again, he reflected on the six months between that meal back in May and this overcast morning with thunder grumbling around the horizon.

  He’d made a choice then and there that he wanted her in his life; not a commitment, but a decision to try. It had taken so much longer than he expected to gather his courage, and in the meantime, he’d been falling for her more and more. Now that long fall had ended, not in a crash but in her arms.

  It didn’t feel like starting a relationship, because they weren’t. It felt like finally giving what had been growing between them a name.

  When he’d woken up this morning, he’d watched her sleep. By dint of vigilant icing, the swelling had gone down in her face, but her bruises had deepened, and more purple shadows had bloomed on her cheeks and chin. He knew she’d flinch away from his gaze when she was awake, so he soaked her up while her guard was down.

  It was such a miracle to finally be with her, to be alone with her. The last six months had been so hectic and stressful, their encounters over-scheduled, his time always running out, his mind always racing and trying to figure out how to get to here. Now at last he’d made it, and his work was no longer eating him alive, and he was ready to slow down and enjoy this victory.

  He knew Jason often went to South Padre Island to unwind, about seven hours south. He imagined taking her there, lying on the beach as the sun blazed on the Gulf of Mexico. She’d be self-conscious about the bathing suit he’d put her in, absolutely she would, but he was learning how to help her be brave. Hell, he’d pay for access to a private beach if he needed to.

  Money couldn’t solve everything, but it could do a lot. He felt again his solemn determination to change her life, to smooth the bumps and keep her safe. He couldn’t heal her bruises but she would never have to go to Dallas alone again.

  When he thought again about how she’d been treated by other lovers, he no longer even felt angry. He felt like the only person in a coalmine who knows what diamonds look like. And by God she was going to shine.

  When breakfast was ready, they sat
again at the counter to eat. “Sorry,” she said. “I can go grab the folding table from storage, I just really only bring it out for D&D.”

  “It’s fine,” he said. “At least you have a kitchen counter.”

  She laughed and picked up a piece of bacon. “What’s the latest ETA for your place?”

  “It was five days ago, so... I don’t want to talk about it,” he said wryly. He had a voicemail from Reggie, but he hadn’t checked it yet.

  “You don’t give up easy, do you?” she teased, and he reached over and tilted up her chin, carefully, carefully. Locked eyes with her.

  “No,” he said simply. She flushed, a tentative smile spreading over her expression.

  She ate a little, then asked with a nonchalance he was beginning to recognize as posed, “Do you have plans for today?”

  He wiped his mouth. “I’ve got to take the rental car back. After that...depends. You still want me to hang around?”

  Another flushed and somehow shy smile. “You don’t have to spend the whole weekend taking care of me.”

  Which was not, he realized, a no. “I like taking care of you. Hey,” he said gently, finding her eyes again. “I mean it. You don’t have to thank me, any more than you have to thank me for spanking you.”

  She had just taken a swallow of something, and sputtered for a second. “I do thank you for spanking me, though!”

  He laughed. “Yes, but you know I enjoy it as much as you do, right?”

  She nodded, ducking her head. “Well...if you want to hang around for the weekend, we could watch more Utena!” she said brightly. “There’s still the whole series.”

  “Does anybody turn into a car?” he asked. Last night she’d selected a very confusing anime that she’d explained was a film adaption of a TV show. He’d bobbed along in amused incomprehension as they ate in bed, and as she gently drifted into sleep. She’d been exhausted, and he’d finished it without her in the vain hope that the story would eventually explain...anything.