“You don’t need to. Your actions speak louder than words. The goody-goody Miss Johnson, the teacher who does no wrong. Well, you can have it. If that’s the life you want to lead, it’s all yours. I wanted to show you a good time, show you that there is so much more to life that you are missing, but apparently you’re just too good for that. Well, fine. Good luck with your life.” With that, she got up and walked away.
I sat with my mouth hanging open and my mind spinning, wracking my brain for anything I had said in the past, or even in this conversation, to make her think I was condescending to her in any way. Was it my reaction to the party in Colorado Springs? Just because I did not want to be exposed to drugs and the type of partying she and her friends were a part of did not mean I thought I was better. I thought I was just different.
I tasted the tears before I noticed them running down my cheeks. Although it was not how I had pictured it happening, the end results were still the same.
We were now broken up.
Chapter Fourteen
My parents’ house was the only house I had lived in until I graduated high school and went off to college. Sterling, Colorado had the same issues all small towns had. Everyone knew everyone else and their business. It was hard to keep a secret, but I had worked hard to keep my relationship choices from prying eyes and ears. As far as anyone else knew, I was between relationships. And no one knew my sexual orientation. Well, no one except my mother, who supported me in any choice I made in my life.
As daddy’s girl, my father did not know I was a lesbian, but I feared he already knew. The subject never came up and neither of us pushed it to happen. When we got together, we talked about fishing, something we loved to do together, and he asked how things were going at school. But not once had he asked me when I was going to get married or have a boyfriend. It was odd, but then again, he never asked my brother, either, who was on the ‘straight and narrow’ as I had heard some people put it.
“Oh, honey, I’m so glad you came,” my mother said as I came in through the kitchen door pulling my rolling suitcase behind me.
“Me too.” I hugged her tightly.
“Are you OK?”
I shrugged but did not say anything and she did not ask.
“Your dad’s in the living room with Grandpa Johnson watching football.” She rolled her eyes and then smiled. “Like father, like son.”
I laughed. “Who else is coming?”
This time Mom’s eyes rolling was not accompanied by a smile. “Your Aunt Lana, Uncle Bruce, and Sam and his family.”
I groaned. Uncle Bruce was fine, always with a smile for everyone. I had grown up with Sam, but we were never very close, not as close as he and my brother Paul were. That was fine with me because he was a mama’s boy anyway.
It was my Aunt Lana who made me want to turn around and walk back out. I would rather have spent Thanksgiving alone than spend it with that woman. I had no idea how my mother put up with her sister-in-law, but they seemed to get along fine. It was not like they met up to go hang out, but things were civil between them.
“Pumpkin!” Dad said when I went into the living room. He pulled himself from his recliner and came over and lifted me off the floor in a hug. “It’s good to see you.”
“Hi, Dad. I’ve missed you, too.”
“So, how is teaching going? Are you still loving it?”
“Yeah, it’s going OK. Frustrating at times, but overall still so important.”
His eyebrows raised. “Here, sit down and tell me about it.”
I explained the issues with Chris Bakersfield and his parents and went on to complain about how the curriculum was so boring.
“Well, honey, you are a tough cookie. Your Aunt Pat had the same concerns when she was a teacher back in the eighties, so it’s nothing new.”
My Aunt Pat died several years earlier and the sadness Dad still carried with him showed on his face for a few seconds and then was gone.
“Thanks, Dad,” I said with a smile. He always tried to find a way to lift my spirits. I was definitely daddy’s girl.
He tilted his head as he stared me down and I found myself shifting under his gaze. “Something else is bothering you.”
“Ben, stop that,” Mom said from behind me. “You know she’ll tell us what’s going on when she’s ready to. Don’t you dare pry into her private life. She’s not a child anymore.”
Dad waved his hand at her. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Sorry, Pumpkin, I just worry, you know that.”
“I know, Dad. I’m sure we’ll talk before I leave, I promise.”
“Ah, so there is something going on?”
“Now she didn’t say that. Leave the poor girl alone.” She turned to me. “Karen said to call her when you got into town.”
As much as I loved my dad, I was glad to have the opportunity to do something besides worrying him with my life problems. He had worked so hard for as long as I could remember and did not need to take on someone else’s problems.
“Thanks, Mom, I’ll give her a call now.”
***
Karen Benson and I had been best friends for as long as I could remember. She had stayed in Sterling when I moved to Denver, so the only time we saw each other was during the holidays when I came home. From time to time we’d meet up for coffee or dinner when she was in Denver, but those instances were few and far between.
“So, what have you been up to?” I asked her as I took a sip of my coffee. I grimaced. How I missed the coffee shop down the street from my apartment. The small machine at the convenience store dispersed the most bitter cup of coffee I had had in a long time, which was the last time I came to visit. I wondered if it was the same coffee that was in the machine from back then.
“Not a lot. Tony started school this year, you know?” She sighed. “I cried when I dropped him off.” I was lucky to have been with her when Tony was born. It was one of the most exciting, and scariest, experience I had ever had, even up to today.
I laughed. “That’s pretty common,” I said, trying to reassure her. “But you got over it, right?”
“Yes, I did, but it took me a while.”
“How did Tony handle going to school?”
She rolled her eyes. “He waved at me and smiled as he followed the class inside. I couldn’t believe it. The little turkey didn’t even miss me!”
I laughed again. It felt good to talk to Karen again. She was down-to-earth and familiar. Staying in Sterling had kept her wholesome somehow, as if the big city life never touched her, which in reality it had not. Having never lived anywhere else, she maintained her laid-back personality.
“And what about you? How’s teaching going?”
I shrugged. “It’s going all right,” I said, my hand wrapped around the wax covered paper cup. “I can see now why so many teachers leave, though.”
“That bad, huh?”
“Yeah. It gets harder every year. When I talk to teachers who have been teaching for many years, they talk about how burned out they are. I don’t want to be one of those teachers.”
“Why not come back to Sterling and teach here? The school’s smaller and you’ll be around friends and family.”
I gave her a piercing look. “Yeah, no, that’s OK.”
Karen dropped the subject and asked, “So, anyone new in your life?” She knew all about me, had known for years, and never once had she judged me. The rest of the town, however, probably would not be as understanding, which was the real reason I did not want to return. I missed small town living, but I did not miss the small town judgments and gossip.
“I was seeing a woman named Alice, but that’s over.”
“Why? What happened?”
I sighed. “She’s what is called a ring girl, you know, the girls who hold up the big cards with numbers on them to say in which round a boxing match is.”
“Sure.”
“She’s also a model. She’s been in a few beer ads here and there.”
Karen’s eyebrows shot up. �
��A model? Wow. You’re hitting the big times, huh?” She gave me a huge grin.
“Oh, stop that. But yeah, that’s part of the problem. She’s big time. I’m a teacher who has to watch how she acts.”
“Well, at school, sure, that makes sense. But what does that have to do with dating someone like her?”
“We went to a party a few weeks ago and people were doing drugs and all sorts of things were going on.”
“So? Hell, you should see some of the parties Billy Prescott has. They’d probably put those highfalutin parties to shame.”
I had been to a few of Billy’s parties before moving to Denver. She was not far off the mark. Yet, I did not feel comfortable at his parties. All I worried about back then was trying to fit in, which I did not.
“That might be true,” I said, “but I can’t associate myself with those kinds of people anymore. As a teacher, I never know when I might run into one of my kids’ parents or something. I have to maintain a sort of decorum at all times.”
“What the hell are you talking about? That’s a bunch of crap and you know it. What you do on your own time is your business, it’s not the school’s or the parents’, Aren’t you strong enough to ‘just say no’?”
“Yeah, I know. But the point is that Alice and I are just too different. She’s a partier, I’m a stay-at-homer. She’s wild, I’m not.” The thought of her kissing other women popped into my head and I pushed it back to its corner.
Karen laughed at this. “She sounds like a hoot. And I doubt she’s that much of a bad influence on you.” She shook her head as if not believing me. “How many dates have you had?”
“We’ve been on a few dates so far.”
“And her ‘bad influences’ haven’t made you a bad person, have they?”
I shook my head.
“Well, from what I see, you’re a lot more self-assured than the last time I saw you. And don’t get mad at me for this, but you’re dressing more like a city girl now instead of the frumpy stuff you usually wear.”
I gasped. “Frumpy? I’m not frumpy.”
“Yes, you are. You wear clothes my mother would wear. You’re not an old lady, you know.”
“God, you sound just like Alice.”
Karen smiled. “Then I like her already. So, is she a druggy or something?”
“No, she drinks, but I don’t think she does drugs, she just hangs out with a lot of people who do.”
“Oh, come on. You know better than anyone that that shouldn’t matter.”
She was right. My parents had grounded me more than once for going to parties, usually Billy’s, even though I never drank at any of them. Most of my friends saw me as a goody two shoes because I did not give into peer pressure.
“Do you like this Alice?” she asked.
“Sure, I like her.” I enjoyed spending time with her. Our dates had been times I looked forward to. Even now, after we had broken up, I still thought about her.
“Do you love her?”
Love? That word could hold so many meanings. There were so many levels of love, so many types. I loved my family. I loved Karen. I had loved Cathy, Theresa, and Vicky, or thought I did. What I felt for Alice seemed stronger somehow.
“Let me change my question before you answer,” Karen said as she leaned forward, her arms on the table. “Do you see spending the rest of your life with her. Or better yet, without her?”
It hit me like a cold wind. The thought of not having her in my life ever again made my heart contract as if a fist were grabbing it and squeezing it. I had never considered thinking about it that way. It was easy to just forget about it, let time push it aside, but forced to consider the option, I knew it was not what I wanted.
“No, I can’t picture my life without her,” I admitted finally. I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes and I quickly swiped at them.
“Then I wouldn’t give up on her.” She spoke matter-of-factly before sitting back in her chair and taking a sip of her coffee. “Oh, my gosh, this tastes like crap!”
I laughed, belying the tears that ran down my cheeks. I rubbed them away and smiled at my friend. “Thanks, Karen. You’ve helped me a lot.”
“Good, I’m glad,” she said with a smile and then glanced at her watch. “Crap, I have to go pick up Tony.”
We stood and hugged. “It was so good to see,” I said in her ear. “And thank you.”
She hugged me tighter. “You know I’m always here for you.”
“Yeah, I know.”
And I did.
***
The table at Thanksgiving was filled with all sorts of food. Mom was up early in the morning preparing the turkey. Mashed potatoes, gravy, four different kinds of vegetables, cranberry sauce—which I hated—, and stuffing filled every empty space in the middle of the table. Mom had created elegant centerpieces with lit candles and spray-painted leaf wreaths at their bases. Aunt Lana had brought her award-winning pumpkin pie and homemade whipped cream. There was enough food to feed an army.
Loud conversations resonated around me as my extended family enjoyed the bounty of the meal. I did not participate, instead poking my fork at the turkey breast on my plate and watching as the tong sunk into the meat before registering I was watching it. I sighed heavily, grabbed my knife, and cut a small piece off.
“Are you all right, Pumpkin?” Dad asked from the end of the table.
“Yeah, sorry, I’m OK,” I replied, forcing a smile that I could tell Dad did not buy.
“Leave her alone, Ben,” Mom said next to him.
“I just want to make sure my baby is all right,” he said, stabbing at a green bean and shoving it into his mouth.
“Dad, I’m fine.”
Dad harrumphed but did not say anything more.
A loud laugh came from the other end of the long table reminding me of Alice and her inhibitions when it came to showing her enjoyment. I glanced down at my cousin Sam who was deep in conversation with Grandpa Johnson, who sat at the head of the table.
Sam was Paul’s age, married, and had three children. It amazed me how well-behaved they were sitting at the table eating but still joining in the conversations. John was ten, Danny eight, and Rhonda, who was a surprise, was three, and all three acted so much more grown up than most of my students, even Rhonda. His wife, Mandy, was a stay-at-home mom who made their children sack lunches every day and was home when they got home. The two were a teacher’s dream as parents.
“So, Carrie,” my Aunt Lana said, “is there a man in your life?”
I groaned inwardly, knowing my face must have been red because it felt on fire. “No, not yet,” I replied as if it were going to happen any day now.
“Well, you’re not getting any younger, you know?” she said as she served herself another helping of mashed potatoes. “That biological clock of yours is ticking. Look at Sammy there.” She pointed the spoon toward my cousin. “He’s already given me three grandchildren. I’m sure your parents would like some of their own, too.”
The pain in my chest overwhelmed me and it became difficult for me to breathe. My leg bounced underneath the table as the room went quiet. I looked over at my brother who just grinned at me. She never asked him questions about his life or his relationships, and he was older than me by a year. There seemed to be a double standard when it came to men and woman being in relationships.
“Lana,” mom said firmly, “the time will come when Carrie finds the right person. It’s really none of your business.”
Everyone stopped eating and all heads turned to watch the drama unfold. Mom might have slapped Aunt Lana across the face, the way her jaw hung open. I had never heard my mother speak to anyone like that, except my father, and that was usually said with a loving voice. This time there was not a drop of love in her tone.
Then my Uncle Bruce stepped in. “She’s right, honey. Leave the girl be. She’ll get married when she gets married and not a moment sooner.”
My aunt stuck her chin out and pursed her lips. “I
just wanted to make conversation,” she said defensively.
Mom snorted. “Yeah, well, we know what kind of conversations you usually have.”
Aunt Lana’s dropped her fork on her plate and the clanging hurt my ears. “And what is that supposed to mean?”
“It means you need to keep your nose out of other people’s business. You do this every time the family gets together. You choose one person to pick on, someone you feel like you can force your narrow beliefs about life on, and then poke at them until they see your way, or find a way to get away from you. Well, you’re not doing that to my daughter.”
“Now, dear…” Dad said, putting his hand over my mother’s.
“No,” Mom spat. “I won’t put up with it anymore. She’s your sister. You deal with her.” With that, she threw her napkin on her plate and walked into the kitchen.
The room was silent except for little Rhonda’s fork hitting against the plate as she tried to eat her food, blessedly unaware that anything had happened.
I pushed my chair back and headed into the kitchen. “Mom?”
“I’m sorry, honey,” she said. “I’m so sick of that woman.”
I had never seen my mother like this before. She was the strongest woman I knew, always kind and loving, never a mean word for anyone. She turned to me and smiled through tears that ran down her face. “She’s always been a busybody. I’ve tried hard to hide it from you, to not let on that she bothered me, but I refuse to have her point you out as someone who’s different.”
“Because of my life choices,” I said quietly, finishing her meaning.
“Not just who you fall in love with, but how you choose to live your life. Mandy can do no wrong because she’s chosen to stay at home and not work, and don’t get me wrong, this isn’t about Mandy. She’s a very nice person and is a good mother. But her way is only one way.” She put her hand on my cheek. “I don’t want you thinking that your way is wrong.”
I laughed and grabbed her hand to kiss it. “Mom, I know ‘my way’ is not wrong.” I pulled her in for a hug. “I love you,” I said into her shoulder.
The door opened behind us. “What is going on?” Dad asked.
Perfect Match: A Lesbian Romance Page 8
