No Regrets

by Joy Argento

  “That looks so good.” It was Beth.

  I turned to look at her. I grinned, which she readily returned. “Hey there. You like?”

  “I do. You did a wonderful job.”

  We stood in silence for a few minutes watching the men complete their work. We simultaneously applauded when they finished.

  Jack gathered up his tools and his nephew and loaded them into his truck. Beth thanked them both and he was on his way.

  She gave me a hug. “I am really pleased with it. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure.” I meant it. I had enjoyed designing and working on this project for her. “Have you had breakfast?”

  “I went to the earliest church service this morning so I could get here in time. So, to answer your question, no.”

  “My treat if you want to go grab some.”

  She shook her head. I thought she was going to say no, and unexpectedly, my heart sank a bit.

  “You are not buying me breakfast. You gave me a great price on the sign, and you did a wonderful job. The least I can do is buy you breakfast.”

  “Don’t be silly. You don’t have to do that.”

  She shook her head again. “Come on. Let’s go eat. We can argue about the bill later.” I thought for a minute she was going to link her arm in mine. When she didn’t, I felt an unreasonable pang of disappointment and laughed at myself for my foolishness.

  Beth

  I’d almost linked my arm in Jodi’s but caught myself just in time. It was something I used to do with a few of my close friends, but I had never done it with someone I barely knew. I didn’t think she noticed.

  “Where were you thinking of going? There’s a great little place a couple of blocks from here if you feel like walking, or we can drive if you would rather go someplace else.”

  “Walking works. Lead the way.”

  We walked side by side making idle chitchat until we came to Bangle Bagels Plus. Jodi held open the door for me. I blinked a few times to help my eyes adjust to the dim lighting compared to the bright sun outside. The smell of bacon and coffee wafted to my nose.

  We were greeted by Lena. She had worked there as long as I could remember. I guessed her to be her mid-forties, but she was the type of woman that could have easily been ten years older or ten years younger. “Hi, Beth. How are you today? We don’t usually see you here on a Sunday.”

  “I had a new sign for the salon put up today, by a sign maker extraordinaire.” I winked at Jodi.

  “I’ll have to check it out,” Lena said. She led us to a booth and poured two cups of coffee from the pot she’d been carrying.

  She came back a few minutes later to take our orders.

  “So, what made you move from Denver to Rochester of all places?” I asked Jodi. “Not that there’s anything wrong with Rochester.”

  “Claire.” She stirred cream into her coffee. “She transferred here for work. I grew up just outside of Denver and love it there, but you’ve got to go where the one you love goes. Just like Ruth from the Bible.”

  “Oh, you know your Bible, huh?” I asked, both surprised that Jodi, a lesbian, knew it and how shallow I was being thinking she wouldn’t.

  “I know the gay parts.” She winked, teasing me.

  I was pretty sure Ruth didn’t follow Naomi for the same reason Jodi had followed Claire.

  I felt the need to apologize. “I’m sor—”

  Jodi put up her hands. “I’m joking. No worries.”

  A slight change of subject might be good, I thought. “What did the kids think of moving here? It must have been quite an adjustment for them.”

  “Annie was thrilled at the idea of a new adventure. Andrew, not so much. He didn’t want to leave his friends or his father.”

  “His father?” I had just assumed Jodi and Claire used artificial insemination from a sperm bank, like I saw in a movie once. Maybe I needed to stop making assumptions.

  “I was married. He wasn’t a bad guy. Just not the right person for me. The penis thing kind of got in the way.”

  I opened my mouth to speak but laughed instead.

  She joined in. “I knew I was gay since I was about fourteen. I just didn’t realize it.”

  “Okay, now that one you’re going to need to explain.”

  “I started having crushes on girls when I was in middle school. Mary Tanborn.” She shook her head and smiled at the memory. “She was a year ahead of me in school and so beautiful.”

  “Did she know you liked her?” I sipped my coffee, realized it was still too hot, and added another container of creamer.

  “Hell no. I didn’t even let myself know how much I liked her. I justified my feelings, made up excuses of why I changed the way I walked from study hall to math class just so I could say hi to her in the hall. A part of me knew that I liked her way more than most girls like their friends. I also knew that the thought of being gay scared me to death. I shoved down any thoughts about being a lesbian. I didn’t really let them surface until I was thirty-three. I had been married for almost eight years by then. I dated a few women after that and met Claire three years later. We’ve been together four years.”

  “Can I ask you a really personal question?” I hesitated, not sure if I should.

  Jodi was quick to reassure me. “Of course.”

  “How could you be married to a guy and not know you were gay?” I really wanted to ask how she could have sex with a man if she was gay but thought that might be going too far.

  But she seemed to read my mind. “You mean sleep with him?”

  I nodded.

  “Sleeping with him was okay. He was the one and only guy I’d ever been with. And at that point I hadn’t slept with any women, so I had absolutely nothing to compare it to.”

  “And now?”

  “It was nowhere near what I needed, and it didn’t satisfy me. It took me long enough to figure out that I’m gay, but now that I did there’s not a single doubt in my mind. It doesn’t scare me anymore. If there was a magic pill that I could take that would suddenly make me straight, I wouldn’t take it. I like who I am, and I like being with women.”

  I did some quick math in my head. “You were twenty-five when you got married?”

  “Yeah. We had been going out for about three years. I was…” she raised her eyes to the ceiling, “twenty-two when I slept with him for the first time. We had been going out for a couple of months by then.”

  “That’s late by today’s standards.”

  Lena set a bottle of ketchup and a bottle of syrup on our table. “Food will be out in a few,” she said and was gone again.

  “Yeah. I think I slept with him more out of curiosity about sex than any real burning desire for him.” Jodi continued when Lena was out of earshot. “I wanted to see what they got all worked up about in the movies and love songs.”

  “And?”

  “And after I slept with him, I still didn’t know.”

  “And with women? With Claire?” Jodi made it easy to ask questions. She didn’t hesitate to answer them.

  “Now I get it. It’s so different for me. Of course, things aren’t as hot and heavy with Claire now as they used to be. I guess that’s natural when you’ve been together for as long as we have.” There was a hint of sadness behind her words. I had the urge to put my hand on hers to comfort her.

  “I was thirteen when I slept with my first boyfriend,” I said, surprising myself at how much I was also willing to share.

  “Wow. That’s Andrew’s age. I can’t imagine that. But if any of the girls I liked had made any moves toward me my story might be much more like yours.”

  “It wasn’t a really good decision on my part, that’s for sure. I was nowhere near ready. I just wanted him to like me and thought that was a good way to do it.”

  “And how did that work out for you?”

  “Like most relationships we have when we’re kids. He left me for someone else. And the funny thing is that I heard she wouldn’t sleep with him. Waiting for ma
rriage and all that. He stayed with her all through high school. Just goes to show you what I sacrificed and how wrong I had been about it.”

  “Someone who really loves you will wait until you’re ready.”

  “That is very true. I just didn’t know it then. I don’t think I even knew what love was then.”

  “And now?”

  “Oh, I know what love is now. Just don’t know if I’ll ever find it.”

  “I have a feeling you will.”

  * * *

  I unlocked the front door of my house and went in. There was a pile of dirty dishes in the sink, and a glass lying on its side on the counter. A small puddle of milk had escaped from the glass and dried in a puddle. I shook my head. Maddie must have made herself breakfast. The kitchen, like the rest of the house, was small. Dishes in the sink made it seem even smaller.

  “Don’t have a cow, Mom.” My daughter came into the room. “I’ll clean the dishes as soon as I get back.”

  “Where are you going?” I wasn’t crazy about how much makeup adorned her face, but mentioning it would only start an argument. At this stage of the game I had to choose my battles wisely. She had dyed her blond hair jet-black months ago against my objections. Too much makeup was just the latest phase in her attempt to establish her own identity. To some extent, I understood it. As her mother, I didn’t like it.

  “The mall to hang with friends. Linda’s picking me up.”

  “When are you coming home?” I didn’t want her coming home too late and having trouble getting up for school in the morning. She was slacking off her junior year of high school. My attempt to stress the importance of her grades for college landed on deaf ears. It was a fine line between being a good parent and being a nag. I knew nagging wouldn’t work with her anyway.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I want you home by nine at the latest.”

  She let out a huff of air and shrugged.

  “Do you hear me?”

  “Yes.”

  I heard a car pull into the driveway. Maddie obviously heard it too. She grabbed her purse from the kitchen counter. “Bye,” she said as she walked out the door.

  I looked again at the dishes in the sink and rolled up my sleeves to wash them.

  Jodi

  “How was your morning?” Claire asked me, looking up from the Sunday paper. “You’re getting back a little later than I expected.”

  “It was good. The client really liked the sign. We went out for a quick bite to eat afterward.” I knew Claire wouldn’t mind. She didn’t have a jealous bone in her body, which I was both grateful for and didn’t like at the same time. Not that I wanted her to limit my friends or who I spent time with, but it would have been nice to know, every once in a while, that she cared a little more than she seemed to. “Where are the kids?” I asked.

  “Annie and her friend are in the backyard. Andrew is in his room, probably on his iPad.”

  She went back to reading the paper. It hadn’t always been like this. When we first started living together after only three months of dating—I know, typical lesbians—she would greet me at the door with a huge kiss and a tight hug. It was one of the things I loved about her. I would find sweet little notes she’d left for me on the bathroom mirror or in my car, and she told me often how much she loved me. Her rule was that neither of us could leave the house without kissing the other good-bye. That was pretty much the only thing she still did. Well, that and occasionally telling me she loved me. I supposed it was normal for these things to slow down with time. In her mind she showed her love by going to work and paying the bills to keep a roof over our heads. I did appreciate her for that, but flowers once in a while would have been nice too.

  I still tried to do sweet little things for her. I cooked her favorite meals, arranged a sitter so we could go out for date nights, and left little gifts under her pillow. She seemed to appreciate the gestures. I still loved her and truly believed she still loved me.

  “I thought maybe we could go out to a movie tonight,” Claire said, interrupting my thoughts. “I know you wanted to see that new Sandra Bullock one.”

  I smiled. Yes. She still loved me.

  “That would be great. I’ll call Roberta to see if her daughter can babysit.” Roberta was our neighbor and her daughter Shelly was a typical teen always looking to make a little pocket money.

  * * *

  Shelly arrived right on time at 6:30. The dirty dishes from dinner were loaded in the dishwasher, and the kids were in the living room deciding what movie they wanted to watch on Netflix. I grabbed a light jacket because it was always a little too chilly for me in the theater, and Claire and I were on our way.

  She drove, as usual. I think she liked the control it afforded her. I was fine with that. It gave me an opportunity to relax. With two kids underfoot and a business to run, I didn’t get much down time.

  “Popcorn?” Claire asked after buying our tickets.

  I shook my head. The last thing I wanted was buttery fingers. I was hoping to be able to hold Claire’s hand during the movie. We bypassed the snack counter and entered the dark theater. The previews were already in progress. Within minutes of sitting down, Claire reached for my hand. Yeah. She still loved me.

  Beth

  I glanced up at my new sign as I walked into my salon and smiled. Jodi had done a wonderful job. She had taken my vision and made it a reality.

  “Morning, boss.” Cindy greeted me with a smile. “Great new sign out there.” She gestured with the pen she was holding.

  “I know. Right? I’m very pleased.” Cindy slid the appointment book toward me. I took a quick look. We had a pretty full day, good thing my other two hairdressers were coming in.

  I put my lunch in the mini fridge in my office and came out just in time to see the first client arriving, an elderly woman with a bit of a shuffle in her step. She was accompanied by a man probably thirty years her junior.

  “It’s okay, Mom,” he said to her. “I’m sure it will be fine.”

  “But they don’t know what I like.” She seemed distressed.

  I glanced at the book before speaking. “Mrs. Ferguson?”

  “Hi,” the man said. He had piercing blue eyes and jet-black hair that had the slightest bit of gray starting at the temples. The cleft in his chin seemed to deepen with his smile. “Yes. My mom here is a little worried.” He mouthed the word dementia. “Her regular hair salon closed and she’s in need of a haircut and style.”

  “No need to worry, Mrs. Ferguson,” I told her. “We can help you out with that.”

  She turned to her son. “Al, this isn’t my place.”

  “I know, Mom. We talked about this. This is the new place.”

  “Are we gonna eat here?”

  Al smiled at her. “No. This is where you are going to get your hair done. See, I brought the picture. He pulled a photo out of his shirt pocket and showed it to his mother before showing it to me. “This is how she usually wears her hair. I’m sure it would make her happy if you could do something close.”

  The picture was of his mother, obviously taken several years ago. There was a brightness in her eyes that was now lacking.

  “Certainly. We can cut and style her hair this way.” I looked from son to mother. “Mrs. Ferguson, we can do this for you here.”

  She nodded. “This isn’t my usual place. I usually eat breakfast at Milton’s Diner.” I knew that diner had closed years ago.

  Al shook his head. “This nice lady is going to cut your hair.” He looked at me and tilted his head. “Maybe I should ask first.” He smiled. “Are you the nice lady that will be cutting her hair?”

  I smiled back. “Yes.”

  “Good. Okay, if I wait over there?” he said, pointing to the chairs lining the wall.

  “Of course.”

  He handed me the photo and gently explained to his mother one more time what was going to happen. She followed me to the wash sink and sat down. She offered no resistance as I went about washing, cu
tting, and styling her hair, explaining exactly what I was doing each step of the way. Al sat quietly in the corner thumbing through an old copy of People magazine. All three styling chairs were full and a few more people sat in the waiting area by the time I was finished.

  “Don’t you look beautiful,” Al said to his mother as I escorted her back to him. “Keep it,” he said to me, handing me cash that included a very generous tip. “Thank you so much. You did a great job. Do you cut men’s hair as well?” He glanced around the room, filled with women.

  “We do indeed,” I told him. Most of the men usually came in on their lunch hour or after work.

  “Wonderful. I’ll call and make an appointment. Who should I ask for?”

  I looked down and realized I hadn’t put on my name tag. “Beth.”

  “Very nice to meet you, Beth.” He smiled wide, showing a row of perfect teeth. Braces no doubt when he was younger.

  He took his mother’s arm. “All set?”

  “Am I here to get my hair cut or for breakfast?”

  “You got your hair cut and it looks great. We can go out to breakfast if you would like.” He gently guided her to the door. Looking back over his shoulder, he said, “Thanks, Beth. I’ll call for that appointment.”

  I watched them go. His patience with her was remarkable. I wondered if it was a show for my benefit or if he was always that kind to her. My previous experience with men left me more than a little leery. Oh well, it didn’t matter if he was all he seemed to be. It was none of my business.

  I grabbed the sign-in sheet and called the next name on the list. Timber Larson stood up and headed in my direction. She was a regular and usually just came in for a trim. Her dark hair hung well below her shoulders. “Let’s cut it short today,” she said, to my surprise.

  Cindy had just finished with a client when the phone rang, and she answered it. “Please hold,” she said into the receiver. “Beth, it’s Maddie’s school.”

  Shit. What now. I looked at Timber.

  “Go ahead,” she said. “I’m not in a hurry.” She sat in the styling chair that I pointed to.