Friday Night Flights

by Susan X Meagher

  “One or two’s plenty. I’d forgotten how much work they were.” She touched the baby again with her usual tender care. “But I’m really glad you had this one.”

  ***

  They’d driven separate cars, and were both heading to their respective homes when Casey’s phone rang. She had it in its usual hands-free holder, and she instructed it to answer. “What’s up?” she said, seeing the call was from Avery.

  “Did you see that playground we just passed?”

  “Uh-huh. It’s new. Why?”

  “Lisbet’s never been on a swing. Want to be our safety net?”

  “Sure,” she said, smiling to herself as she pulled over to turn around. “Meet you there in two minutes.” She was pretty sure Lisbet was too small, but what the heck?

  The playground was on a small parcel of land the town had recently developed, creating a decent-sized playground with all of the features that were supposed to create a safe play space. Personally, Casey thought a big cardboard box and an imagination were enough for little kids, along with balls, bats, and trees to climb when they got older. But she acknowledged that almost no one thought having a free-range kid like she’d been was a good idea any more.

  Avery got out of her car, leaving the door open while she took a look around. “Everything looks perfect, doesn’t it? The infant swing doesn’t even look like it’s covered with bacteria, even though I’m sure it is.”

  “Top notch,” Casey said. “But isn’t Lisbet a little small to be in one of these?” She sized up the bright yellow swing, clearly made for a small child, but maybe not as small as this particular child.

  “They say they’re safe for babies over six months.” She met Casey’s eyes and smiled. “I loved swings when I was little. Am I pushing her?”

  “Maybe. But we can give it a try.” When those big blue eyes blinked up at her, Casey wasn’t able to refuse.

  Avery got Lisbet out and Casey sat on one of the full-sized swings. “Let’s see if the likes the concept.” She wrapped her arms around the chains and held her hands out. “I’ll stay slow and low.”

  Avery handed the baby over, with Casey just then realizing she’d probably wanted to share this first-time experience herself. But Avery got out her phone and started to focus it.

  “I want to try to get a good video.”

  “Ready to rock, Lisbet?” Casey asked, keeping her feet on the ground as she rocked back and forth very gently.

  Avery was in front of them, talking excitedly to the baby, and Casey could feel Lisbet pushing, like she was trying to get to her mom. “I think she likes it. We can do a little more.”

  She was holding her facing Avery, so she couldn’t see her face. But when Casey took her feet off the ground and increased the arc, Lisbet wasn’t urging her to do more. “Is she smiling?”

  “A little. I think she liked it better when you were traveling less.”

  “Then we’ll slow down.” She went back to the way they’d been doing it, and Avery put her phone away. Lisbet seemed perfectly content now, babbling and making the silly noises that always entertained Casey.

  Avery got on the swing next to theirs and started using it adult-style. “I haven’t been on a swing in years,” she said, with a big smile. “It’s very freeing.”

  “Oh, yeah. I had one in a tree right where your septic field is. A nice one.”

  “Really? Why not have one at your house?”

  “Because my dad didn’t want me to screw up one of his precious trees,” she said, thinking of how long she’d begged for permission to put one up. “I just mentioned it to my grandma, and we were on our way to the hardware store.”

  “You…made it yourself?”

  “Uh-huh. I wasn’t a little kid,” she said, thinking back. “I think I was already in second grade.”

  “Second grade!” Avery stared at her like she’d said something utterly ridiculous.

  “Yeah. That’s plenty old enough to drill holes in a board and knot the rope so it doesn’t slip through. The only hard part was getting the rope lengths even. I was up and down that tree twenty times,” she added, laughing at the memory of her bruised and scraped knees.

  “No ladder?”

  “My grandma wasn’t a fireman,” Casey said, laughing a little. “The branch I chose was twenty-five feet high. At least.”

  “Wow,” she said, with the breeze making her golden hair trail behind her as she pumped her legs. “I’ve always admired your determination. You’re not the kind of person to let any obstacle stop you.”

  “I’m not?”

  “Of course not! No one who came out with a bang like you did in high school is going to let her goals slip by. You wanted a swing, and you got one.”

  “That wasn’t a big deal. Any kid could cut some rope.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. If I’d asked for a swing and my parents had refused, I’d ask again in a few months. It wouldn’t have occurred to me to find a tree and do it myself.”

  “Really?”

  “Really,” Avery insisted. “It was that drive of yours that I was in awe of in high school.”

  Even though she was having a blast swinging, Casey had to stop so she could see Avery’s face clearly. “You were in awe of me,” she said, after stopping, getting up carefully, and standing in front of her, admiring how free and childlike she seemed pumping away on the swing.

  “Definitely.”

  “That’s…not believable,” Casey said, just stopping herself from calling Avery a liar.

  “I was! Up through junior year, I knew who you were, but I don’t think I’d ever really paid attention—other than putting you in the jock category.”

  “That was a whole category?”

  “Sure. Most people were into one thing. Primarily, at least. Like the science nerds, and the debate nerds, and the word nerds. That was my nerd-dom, in case you hadn’t noticed. I put you in the jock category, and since I wasn’t interested in sports, I never saw you play volleyball or basketball or any of the other stuff you did. I also don’t think we ever had a class together, so you weren’t on my radar. Then you showed up for senior year, and bam! I noticed you big time. Big time,” she emphasized.

  “I was different,” she said, gazing at Avery with a sober expression, still able to feel the pain that had caused her to change. “I had a different attitude.”

  “You definitely had a different look…”

  “I did, but that’s not what I mean. I decided I wasn’t going to play the game any more.”

  “Mmm. I’m not really following—”

  She was sure Avery knew what she meant, but she wasn’t afraid to spell it out. “People had been taunting me for being gay since I started junior high, which was long before I had any real idea of what being gay meant. The only thing I was dead certain of was that it was the worst thing you could be accused of.”

  Casey had been trying to hide the pain that thinking of those days could still summon, but she must have done a pretty poor job of it. In a second, Avery skidded to a stop, then got up to approach her and put a hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t know that,” she said softly. “If you were as confused by the whole thing as I was…”

  “You were confused?”

  “Oh, yeah. I didn’t know what any of that meant either. I’m certain I was in high school before I realized ‘faggot’ meant a guy who had sex with guys. I thought it was a slur the boys in my class used for everyone.”

  “Mmm,” Casey said. “I’m pretty sure the gay boys didn’t feel that way, but yeah, I’m sure a lot of kids aren’t even sure why they make fun of other kids. They just pile on.”

  “I assume you identified as gay by high school, right?” She smiled, the remarkably attractive expression reminding Casey of all of the times she’d seen Avery walking down the hallway with her boyfriend of the month, wishing like hell she could hold that hand one day, while being absolutely sure that would never happen.

  “Sure did.” She nodded briskly. “I’d had
crushes on girls for a long time, but I’d never done anything with anyone.”

  “Really?”

  Avery put her hand on Casey’s back and guided her over to a bench. When they sat down, Lisbet cuddled up to her body, sighing as she settled down. “Yeah,” Casey said. “One day during the summer after junior year, I was in my uncle’s kitchen, making up hundreds of orders of caprese salad, when it hit me. I was gay, and that wasn’t going to change.”

  “That’s a big day in every queer kid’s life,” Avery said, empathy filling her eyes.

  “I’m sure it is. So…” She tried to put herself back there to recall exactly how the thought had come to her. “Right there, I decided to stop caring how people labeled me.”

  “You just…decided?”

  “Uh-huh,” she said, hearing her voice come out low and firm. “I decided to own it.” She smiled, thinking back to her quest, which took up every spare minute. “We had a computer in the living room, and I stayed up every night after my parents went to bed, reading everything I could about lesbians. I embraced that shit,” she said, chuckling. “I cut my hair super short, then dyed the sides to make it obvious things had changed. I spent the last weeks of summer vacation forcing myself to believe that I no longer gave a fuck, and when school started I was ready.”

  “So brave,” Avery murmured. “You were the talk of the entire school, you know. For weeks and weeks. No one knew how to treat you.”

  “That’s because I turned the tables on the little shits. No one could insult me if I refused to be insulted.”

  “Riiight,” Avery said, nodding. “I remember being in the cafeteria one day when someone called you a dyke as you walked by their table. You stopped on a dime, turned around, and put your hands on the table, getting really close.” She started to laugh. “It was that little jerk Aaron Adams, and he looked like he was about to wet his pants.”

  “I don’t remember that one, since that kind of thing happened all the friggin’ time…”

  “No, it didn’t,” Avery said, sitting up straight and gazing at Casey. “Maybe before, but not when we were seniors.”

  “Really?” she asked, suddenly unsure of the progression of events. “You think it slowed down?”

  “No, it stopped,” Avery said, clearly certain. “It might have stopped that day! You glared at Aaron so hard that everyone else in the cafeteria shut up. I swear you could have heard a pin drop. Then you said something like, ‘I am definitely a dyke. Got any more news flashes?’ Or something like that. From then on, when people talked about you, they whispered.”

  She shrugged. “I’d been a victim for a long time. It took a while to make it clear I was over it.”

  “Not long, Casey. I’m certain of that. One of my friends was apoplectic about you that first week of school. I remember her going on and on about how you weren’t even ashamed of yourself. But she was at the table with me that day, and I’m sure she never said another thing to you. She still bitched about you, and anyone else who didn’t kiss her ass, but she only did it off campus.” She let out a laugh. “You might not have realized how much bigger and stronger you were than a lot of the boys and most of the girls, but once people saw that you were angry, they shut up.” Her smile grew until Casey could see her teeth. “That was so cool. If I hadn’t been so deep in the closet, I would have begged you to let me be your friend.”

  “I had plenty of slots open,” she said coldly, unable to even look at Avery. “When I left my house in the morning, I put my headphones on and listened to my iPod until whatever teacher I had for first period made me take them off. I tried to convince myself I was the only person in that whole school, and I got pretty damn good at it.”

  “Damn,” she sighed. “If Lisbet has a tough time in school, I’m taking her out and teaching her at home. No one should have to feel like they have to create a barrier around herself to feel safe.”

  “That wouldn’t have helped me,” Casey said. “As school got better, home got worse.”

  “Because of the way you looked?”

  “That…but I think it was more because of how I acted. I wouldn’t take any shit from my parents, which was a pretty dramatic change, since my normal way was to just go along. But that year I stuck to my guns and made them adjust.” She reached down and checked Lisbet’s skin to make sure it wasn’t chilled, then rested her hand on her head and stroked her fuzzy blonde hair. “I almost wound up living in your house to finish the year. My grandma was going to take me in, but my mom really didn’t want her to. I stayed at home just to make sure they didn’t have a falling out over it.” She shook her head slowly. “Tough year.”

  “Figuring out how to be an adult is tough for everyone, I think,” Avery said, putting her hand on Lisbet’s leg and patting it gently. “I’m still not entirely comfortable doing that. I felt like a jerk for moving out, since I know my mom really wanted me to stay.”

  Casey turned and gazed into her eyes for a few long seconds. “You have to decide whose life you’re living. It’s guaranteed that you can’t make everyone happy, so you might as well make sure you’re doing the right thing for yourself. And your baby.”

  “Words to live by. I think I’ll have you take over Lisbet’s self-esteem training.”

  “Wish I could, but she’s got to do it for herself.”

  “How long did you keep your hair cut that way? What was that even called?”

  “Not sure. I just played around with it until I was satisfied. My mom hated it,” she stressed. “That was the thing that pushed her buttons. I started out with it about two inches long all over, but then I clipped the sides and back until you could see my scalp.”

  “You clipped it yourself?”

  “Uh-huh,” she said, laughing at the amazed look on Avery’s face. “I knew what I wanted, so I got a set of clippers and started cutting. I’ll admit it’s harder to cut your own hair than it looks, though,” she added. “That’s how I wound up with the back so short.”

  “God, I still hesitate to have more than an inch cut off. I don’t think I’ve ever gotten it into my head that it’ll grow back.”

  “Go crazy,” Casey said. “It was fun to play with my hair to get a look that matched how I felt inside, even though when I dyed it it almost killed my mom. I think I started off with purple, but I changed it a couple of times.”

  “It looked cool,” Avery said. “Super cool, actually.”

  “It was.” She took a band from her wrist and gathered her hair up, putting the band around it to make a pony tail. Then she rubbed her hand across the back of her head, where it was clipped very short. “It kept me so cool I decided to keep it.”

  “Oh, wow,” Avery said. “It looks like the fur on a plush animal, dark and fuzzy.” She shut her mouth, then tentatively said, “I meant that as a compliment.”

  “That’s how I took it. My first girlfriend used to call me Fuzzy Wuzzy.”

  Avery laughed. “That’s awfully cute. You know, I’ve seen a few women with one side shaved, but I like your way better. It really suits you.”

  “Thanks. When Lisbet’s a little older I’ll take her to the barber with me. We can match.”

  “Fine by me. I’ve already decided I’m going to let her express herself however she wants. And if she wants to mimic her best friend, I’ll pay for both of your haircuts.”

  Casey stood up and grasped Lisbet to her chest. “I think you’d better get this little Fuzzy Wuzzy to bed.”

  “I’ll be right behind her. I got about five hours of sleep last night, and that’s not enough for me to think clearly.”

  “I’ll put her into her seat.” Casey got her settled, then kissed her fingertips and pressed them to the baby’s head. As she stood, Avery was right there, closer than normal. She looked like she might be looking for a hug, but Casey didn’t feel comfortable giving her one. She had a lot to think over before she got even an inch closer to truly trusting Avery, but tonight it seemed like a possibility, which would have made seventeen-year-o
ld Casey pretty darned happy.

  Chapter Ten

  The next day during lunch, Casey ran over to the Greenhouse Pub and fired up the propane heat lamps. It was around sixty-five outside, but with the dark, overcast skies, the greenhouse wouldn’t soak up much warmth. The kids who came to Baby Brewers were usually dressed properly, but she didn’t want to have anyone get chilled. One of her guys brought over a soda keg of cider, and she hooked it up to the tap, and checked out the room one more time. The floor was just sheets of plywood on bare dirt, but they’d covered it with straw at the beginning of the season for insulation and to avoid having anyone slip. That wasn’t an ideal surface for babies, but it wasn’t too bad. Everyone had learned their kids were going to get dirty, and they seemed perfectly fine with that, so long as they got a beer or two in exchange for the grime.

  ***

  Casey usually worked from seven to three, when her assistant Glen took over to shut the plant down for the day.

  When she’d first started as the assistant brewmaster, she’d copied the habits of her boss, routinely putting in ten or eleven hour days. Since she’d been switched to salaried status when she’d been promoted, she’d wound up making less than she had when she was hourly. Given she was working harder, and had a lot more stress, that wasn’t going to work. Without asking for permission, she started to cut back. Over time, she realized the owners seemed to prefer talking to her than her boss, who was kind of a pain in the ass, so she kept nipping away at her hours until she was working just forty a week. Since then, she only worked overtime when it was truly necessary, and she’d never gotten any blowback from the change.

  At three, she spoke to Glen to make sure he understood exactly what had to be done to finish off the day, then she stopped by her office to say goodbye to Ben. He was just standing up to grab his briefcase. “Taking off?”