by Elia Winters
They ordered a rideshare to their hotel in Midtown with a driver who was fortunately not much for conversation, leaving Lori the chance to take in the sights with Hannah. “I can’t believe we’ve never been to New York together,” Lori said as their driver deftly swapped lanes in the middle of an intersection.
“I’ve been here,” Hannah reminded her. “But just a couple of times, and not in…geez, probably at least five years. Maybe more. I might have been in college last time I was here. How long did you live here, again?”
“Just one summer.” Lori tried to see to the tops of the tallest buildings without rolling down her window. “After junior year. My roommate at Smith was doing a summer internship in Manhattan and invited me to come stay with her in her sublet in Brooklyn.” The apartment had been ridiculously tiny, especially by Mapleton standards, but Lori hadn’t minded.
Hannah made a thoughtful “mmm” noise. “It’s not for me. Too fast. Too much going on.”
“That’s what I like about it. You can do anything, see anything, eat whatever you want. It’s all a train ride away. So many opportunities.” She’d made a home in Mapleton, but the more time passed, the less content she felt there.
Their driver dropped them off at the hotel, and after checking in, Lori was grateful to take off her backpack and flop down on her hotel bed. “So good.” She kicked off her sneakers while Hannah stretched out on the other bed. “Hotel indulgence is the best.”
“Damn straight.” Hannah’s voice sounded muffled in the duvet, and she rolled onto her side, facing Lori. “I know you’ve got a whole timeline for this trip. What’s the plan?”
Lori had indeed lured Hannah away from work with a promise of “I’ll take care of everything, just schedule yourself a weekend off and tell me your budget and I’ll make it happen.” Hannah did enough planning in the rest of her life; she was not likely to want to plan their getaway as well. “Well,” Lori said, wiggling her feet off the end of the bed, “I have a menu of options to choose from, depending on your priorities. But there are a couple of must-dos.”
“Okay.” Hannah sounded cautious.
“I know you’re going to want to check out at least one kink shop, so I put a few on the map.”
Hannah nodded. “Seems like a good start.”
“Also, a show. I thought we’d check discount rush tickets for something tomorrow night.”
Hannah’s face lit up. “Hamilton?”
“On our budget? Hell no.” Lori shook her head. “But there’s a ton of other stuff playing, and we might get lucky. I’ve also got a half-dozen restaurants on the list for you to choose from. And, if you’re game, I’d like to walk you by the places where I applied for jobs.”
Hannah shot up to sitting. “What? You already applied?”
“Almost two weeks ago.” Lori bit her lip. “No word yet.”
“Still. I didn’t know you’d applied anywhere.” Hannah frowned, folding one leg up beneath her on the bed. “I kind of thought you were putting the ‘moving away’ thing on pause while you were hanging out with Geoff and Patrick.”
“What?” Lori rolled onto her side to face Hannah across the space between their beds. “It’s not that serious. I went over for dinner two weeks ago, and last weekend was the concert.” She hesitated. “And Geoff and I have had lunch a few times this week. And we all went out to dinner at the pub last night. And we’ve been texting.” Saying it all out loud made her realize how much time she’d started spending with them. “But we’re friends! I’m getting to know them as friends. I’m certainly not making decisions about my future with them in mind.”
Hannah shook her head. “Of course. It’s too soon for that.”
“They’re fun.” Lori examined her fingernails, because it was easier than making eye contact with Hannah right now, for some reason. “I have a lot in common with both of them.”
As if on cue, Lori’s phone buzzed, and she pulled it over to check it. It was Geoff, texting her a picture of a cherry pie he presumably had just finished baking. She smiled at the screen before she felt Hannah looking at her. “What?”
“Funny text?”
“Geoff’s sending me pictures of the things he’s baking.” She tossed the phone aside. “He makes a really good pie.”
Her phone buzzed again, and under Hannah’s amused stare, she dragged the phone back over. Patrick had sent her a picture of the same pie, only he had written “PIE!!!” across the screen using the in-phone editing app. “It’s Patrick. He sent me a picture of the same pie.” She shook her head and put the phone away again.
“You’re not on a group text yet?” Hannah tipped her head to the side, lips still twitching in amusement.
“I don’t think we’re at ‘group text’ level.” Their blossoming friendship didn’t count as dating, not really, no matter what Hannah might be insinuating.
“When the group texts start, that’s when things get serious.” Hannah nodded sagely. “I’m surprised that didn’t come up in your polyamory research. That, and the magical moment you create a shared Google Calendar.”
Lori chucked a pillow across the divide, and Hannah caught it, laughing. “Seriously,” Lori said. “I only slept with them the one time. I’m pretty sure Geoff just had to get it out of his system.”
“Okay.” Hannah didn’t sound convinced. “But you know, your objections kind of sound like me last year.”
Ugh, it would figure she’d bring this up. Lori had hoped Hannah wasn’t going to try and draw parallels. She stayed quiet, and Hannah added a little more. “If they want to sleep with you again, will you?”
Lori rolled onto her back again to stare up at the ceiling. “Probably. Sex is sex.” She propped herself up on her elbows to look over at Hannah, who was opening her mouth to add something. Lori jumped in before she could. “It’s not the same as you and the guys. Geoff and Patrick are married. They’ve got each other already. They’re committed. If anything, I’m a third wheel. Mitchell and Ben, they needed to both fall in love with you to figure out their shit with each other. But Geoff and Patrick don’t have that shit. They’re together for good, and even if they want to fool around with somebody else sometimes, that’s all it’s going to be.” She sat up the rest of the way, remembering Geoff borrowing polyamory books from her. “Sometimes polyamory isn’t a closed triad in a happily-ever-after like you and Ben and Mitchell. Sometimes it’s a married couple who take a third to bed now and then.” She sighed and scrubbed a hand over her face. “Enough about Geoff and Patrick, okay?”
“Okay, no problem.” Hannah held up her hands in surrender, then clasped them in her lap. “Now tell me about these jobs.”
That was a much better topic, even if it brought up some general low-grade anxiety. “They’re all relationship therapy positions. I don’t want to try to open my own practice, not yet, not in a place like New York where there’s so much competition.” She had priced out a variety of options back when she first decided to move to a city. “But there are agencies and organizations that are often looking to take on new people, and with my expertise in nontraditional relationship structures, I would hope to fill a niche.” She wouldn’t be the only one with that kind of expertise, obviously, but New York was a big city. Surely someone had need of her.
Hannah had taken her hair out of its twist, and the waves spilled across her shoulders as she leaned forward. “What’s your dream? If you could design your perfect position, what would it be?”
Lori had already thought about this. “I would love to work with an organization that supports people of color and LGBTQ folx in nontraditional relationships: polyamory, kink, that sort of thing. I’d like to offer classes and workshops while also taking on clients for relationship therapy.”
“Do any of the jobs you applied for fall into that category?”
Lori hesitated. “One.” Even saying it out loud felt too big, too risky, that “little-stitious” quality rearing up again. “It’s a practice that works in conjunction with a few
community organizations and does outreach and education along with therapy. It’s top of my list, but I think it’s a long shot.”
“Still. It’s exciting to think about,” Hannah said encouragingly. “You’re so practical. It must be nice to dream a little.”
Lori snorted. “I’m eminently practical, Hannah. That’s why I don’t want to hope for something in case I don’t get it.” When Hannah opened her mouth, Lori waved her away. “Trust me, I’m working it all out with my therapist. It’s our favorite topic lately, the topic of ‘why Lori thinks she won’t get good things.’” She smiled, so Hannah knew she wasn’t upset. “But yeah. That’s my top hope. My long shot.”
“Did you only apply in New York?”
“And Boston. But I’m hoping for New York, even though it’s farther away. There’s something about this city.” She got up and walked to the window, looking out at the obstructed skyline. “It gets in your blood, I think. I wasn’t here long, but I feel like I’ve always been kind of working my way back here.”
Behind her, Hannah laughed softly. “All I remember is traffic. And the subway’s confusing.”
“It’s not so bad. I can teach you.” Lori could imagine Hannah coming here to visit, getting to know her way around. Patrick popped into her mind suddenly. He had lived here for years as a student at Juilliard. Did he, too, miss the city the way she did? Or was he happy to have left the hecticness and crowds behind him? Maybe she could find a way to ask him sometime. If they stayed friends.
She should probably tell them she was leaving. It hadn’t seemed relevant at first, because everything was up in the air, but she was applying for jobs now. And they were becoming friends. If she was going to move away, or even seriously considering it—and she was—then she should come clean.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
Hannah’s voice made Lori turn. She’d been standing at the window for a while in silence, hadn’t she? She pushed her worries aside. “All right. Let’s pick a restaurant to start with. I’m starving.”
Hannah fell asleep that night pretty much the moment she climbed into her hotel bed, but Lori stayed restless. Normally, the amount of walking New York demanded, plus an endless string of activities, would leave her as exhausted as Hannah. Tonight, though, sleep was elusive. After an hour of tossing and turning, she sat up against the padded headboard and pulled her phone off the nightstand. She’d received a message from Geoff a little while ago: a psychology meme. This week, he’d been sending her jokes that apparently reminded him of her. It was sweet. She responded with a laughing emoji.
You’re up late. Geoff’s answering text arrived immediately.
So are you.
I’m always up late. I hate going to bed.
She could picture him texting her in bed, the blue glow of his phone illuminating his face. She’d learned over the last week that he was the kind of guy who texted in complete sentences, and she naturally fell into the same pattern while they wrote.
I can’t sleep, she wrote back. I’m all worked up. That sounded more sexual than she intended, so she added, The city’s a hectic place.
Fun though, right?
She stared at Geoff’s reply. It sure isn’t Mapleton.
LOL. Mapleton isn’t anyone’s idea of a metropolis.
Geoff was probably the only person Lori knew who would use the word “metropolis” in a text, and she liked that. Do you miss Boston? she asked.
The phone was quiet for a while without his reply, and she was starting to think he had dozed off on the other end. Right before she went to check her social media, though, his reply popped up in a block of text.
Not really. I liked Boston, and I like Mapleton. I’m less concerned with where I’m living and more with what I’m doing. I’ve got a career headed right where I want to go.
Geoff was a pretty straightforward guy, so that shouldn’t surprise her, but she couldn’t relate. She typed, If you’ve already met all your goals, it lets you relax, yeah? With a PhD and a professorship with tenure on the way, as well as a lengthy list of publications, Geoff had reached a level of achievement in his field that others only dreamed about.
I haven’t met all my goals.
Of course, he would be a stickler for the details. Besides tenure, I mean.
I have more goals than just tenure, he replied.
She waited for him to reply, and when he didn’t, she pressed. Well? What are they?
I know we’re lucky: financial stability, health, happiness. But I’d like to travel more. And find some way for Patrick to pursue his dreams.
Patrick was in a band and also teaching music, able to live full-time as a musician with the support of Geoff’s more stable career. What are Patrick’s dreams? she asked.
You’ll have to ask him that. :)
That was fair. Anything else?
Maybe a family someday. We aren’t sure if we want to have kids or not.
Again, the sense of getting in the middle of something profound and special settled over Lori like a heavy weight. Geoff and Patrick were considering having kids someday. They had a healthy relationship with financial stability. Whatever she was starting to build with them, it could never be on the same level as their marriage.
What about you? Geoff asked.
And just like that, she was telling him. I want to move here to New York. She started typing out the job she was looking for, the description she’d shared with Hannah earlier that day, unloading all of her hopes for a perfect position that she had sent out into the universe. Before sending it, she hesitated, finger hovering above the send button. By telling Geoff, she was essentially telling both of them. Telling them would send the message that she wasn’t interested in anything permanent, and that was the right thing to do. She pressed send.
The phone was silent for a few minutes. This agonizing wait was the worst, when her message was received but no one had responded. She kept staring at the chat thread until finally, his reply popped up.
Cool. :) Good luck!
It was such a banal response, something eased inside her. Then Geoff added more.
Do you want to get together this week sometime? I’d love to spend more time with you.
They’d been getting together more frequently all week, and she had just assumed it would continue. What did “spend more time with you” mean? Was this another dinner? Was he hinting about sex? She paused long enough that he added another text.
I’m sure Patrick would too.
She was always counseling others to be direct. She could be direct too. I’d love to keep seeing you both. But I want to be clear. Are you asking me to hang out, or are you asking me to bed again?
This time, she hit send before she could let herself hesitate. Her heart thumped against her chest, and the phone revealed nothing, holding her in this state of uncertainty until his response finally (fucking finally) came through.
We’re both open to that if you are. But it’s okay if you just want to hang out as friends.
Relief washed away the temporary anxiety, but she wanted to be clear where things stood. It’s still hanging out as friends, no matter what. :) Now, when to schedule? Her week was filled with the Bridge Program during the day and her part-time therapy work. How about Friday night? Patrick have a gig or anything?
We’ve got game night Friday night. A few friends are coming over, but the more the merrier. Do you want to join us, and then maybe stay a little later? Or overnight?
Lori loved board games. Sure. Sounds fun.
Great. We can figure out times and stuff later this week. Lunch this week again?
I’d like that. Her lunches with Geoff made her days more pleasant, even if they mostly talked shop.
Lori glanced over at Hannah again, then back at her phone. It was after midnight, she wasn’t quite ready to get off the phone, and her boundaries were beginning to blur. Are you in bed? she asked.
Yeah.
She was typing the next question before she thought too much abo
ut it. What are you wearing?
Haha. I’m wearing boxers. You?
Lori looked down at herself. A tank top and sleep shorts. And a very sexy silk sleep bonnet.
Love a cute sleep bonnet. And your legs.
Lori smiled at the phone. Geoffrey Robinson, are you flirting with me? They were just words on a screen, but he was on the other end, writing to her, thinking of her.
I think I am. Don’t tell my husband.
Lori frowned, but before she could reply with any kind of admonishment, Geoff added, Because then he’ll start flirting with you too.
Smiling like an idiot again, Lori snuggled back under the covers. How long had it been since she was chatting with any guy after midnight? I don’t know if I can handle both of you at once.
We should find out.
Ah, fuck, she hadn’t meant her comment like that, but his response went straight to her groin. Careful. You’ll get me all worked up and I’m not alone here.
I like you worked up, Geoff replied.
This wasn’t just flirting, this was full-on teasing, and Lori couldn’t help the way her body responded to the mere idea of it. You’re a tease.
Do you like it?
She hesitated. Maybe.
I like teasing you. I’m getting worked up myself, though. I might have to wake Patrick up so I have someone here to play with.
Lori pressed her lips together, and damn, she could picture that, and it was hot as hell. I’d love to see that, she replied.
Maybe you can sometime.
She let out a shaky breath. Geoff was not making it easy for her to stay detached from this whole thing. Good sex was good sex, and they’d had great sex. It was only natural for her to want it again. She’d had meaningless sex before, and sex with friends, and she could do it again. I’d like that, she typed. If this continued, she was going to start sexting with Geoff, and that wasn’t anything she should get into while Hannah slept one bed over. I should go to sleep before I get carried away. Have a good night, Geoff.
You too. I’ll talk to you this week.
She set the phone aside on the nightstand and stared up at the ceiling.
