The Comfortable Shoe Diaries

by Renée J. Lukas

  Shops nestled inside old Victorian houses with lovingly cared for balconies and neatly manicured flower gardens surrounded us as we felt the cool breeze off the water. A seascape from a postcard could be seen squeezed in narrow cracks between the houses we passed. There was one pink house that demanded to be noticed. Soon we were immersed in all of the sights and sounds of Provincetown. We passed two men pushing their adopted Asian daughter in a stroller, two lesbians each yanking hard on their boxers’ leashes, a drag queen on a unicycle advertising his nighttime comedy show. And there were the straight couples passing us without any bulging-eyed stares or double-takes. Most of them didn’t seem to care at all.

  We went down to the pier, and I spotted the little red boat in the bay. Always there year after year, the red boat was happily sitting on glassy water amidst all the white boats, many much larger—okay, some were yachts. But it was the red boat that was Provincetown. It was the one with color, unashamedly taking its place among the other more imposing boats and just as proud to be there as they were. It was different, but happily there anyway, reminding me that so was I, reminding me to hold Ellie’s hand without looking over my shoulder, to hold my head as high as I did in ballet class when I had no clue that I was shorter than everyone else in second grade. My dance teacher told my mom that I carried myself like I was ten feet tall. As I watched the red boat rock a little, I realized I’d almost forgotten how I used to be. How I could be again.

  I’d let the layoff and bankruptcy poison my self-esteem, and Ellie had become the only light in my life, warming me all over just when I felt like the world was cold and I was unlovable.

  Back on Commercial Street, we poked around in different shops. Even in the crowd, Ellie caught my eye and her smile filled my chest with excited anticipation like Christmas Day, right before opening presents. Now as the late afternoon sun took hold of the street, spilling a hazy pink summer glow across everything, the shadows across her face and her serene smile gave me a peace greater than my anxiety pills.

  In one store, I vaguely heard the chatter going on around me. Cabbot picked up a rustic sign and read, “‘It’s always five o’clock somewhere.’ Mommy, what does that mean?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Joanne said casually. She was an experienced, unflappable mom.

  I was lost in a daydream, smiling back at Ellie. I’d begun to follow her into another store. My sister grabbed my arm and pulled me in another direction.

  “What about the cool music place?” Joanne urged.

  “Yeah,” I answered. “It’s up a little further.”

  “Let’s go there.”

  “But Ellie’s going here.”

  I started to follow Ellie’s golden-streaked hair, and when she turned, her bright blue eyes were anxious little sapphires, giving Joanne a secret look. Something was definitely going on.

  “Let’s give her some space,” Joanne said. “You know the key to a good relationship is giving each other space.”

  “You’re giving me relationship advice?” I tried to lower my voice. We were now standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

  “You see her all the time, and you never see me.” She was becoming an even worse liar.

  “Something’s going on. Will you just tell me because the not knowing is going to kill me!”

  “I want to see it now!” she exclaimed. “We have to go before Nathan freaks out.” She looked all around. “Then I won’t get to see it.”

  “Oh.” That made sense, but I knew it wasn’t the whole truth.

  We raced up the hill to my favorite little used music shop.

  Nathan looked bewildered but followed us anyway, with my nephews dragging along. They only cared about the pool later and were showing the patience of saints waiting for it.

  A fan rattled overhead, and the musty smell of old vinyl albums filled the air. I could’ve stayed here all day. Because of me, Joanne knew some of the best gay singers and bands, and her knowledge even surprised the flamboyant guy behind the counter. With a receding hairline and skintight tank top, he came out from around the counter to get a closer look at her species.

  “You like Erasure?” he marveled, still a bit suspicious.

  “Oh yeah,” Joanne exclaimed.

  Because she was straight, Joanne got extra-credit points for being gay-friendly.

  “She’s in Florida,” I told him.

  “Yeah,” she continued. “I caught them in Tampa, and they’re still as good as they were in the eighties.”

  “I saw them in New York,” he replied. It was now a contest to see who knew them better.

  While they buzzed about that, I flipped through some CDs, always searching for a new Jimmy Somerville import I hadn’t seen before. I couldn’t help but wonder what Joanne meant about secrets yesterday. Something was happening. Ellie was in on it. Joanne was in on it. But I had no idea what Nathan knew. He seemed distracted by all of the people.

  “I’m gonna take ’em next door,” Nathan interrupted, scooting the boys toward the door. He didn’t see enough Tim McGraw to be comfortable in this particular record store.

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea, honey.” Joanne gritted her teeth behind a smile.

  When the counter guy took a phone call, she erupted at Nathan.

  “There are naked people on the walls in there!” she exclaimed.

  You could see X-rated advertising in the windows, and I pretended not to notice so Joanne wouldn’t get ruffled. It didn’t work.

  “So?” Nathan shrugged. “They might as well see human anatomy.”

  “How can you be so matter-of-fact about this? What if it traumatizes Tayler? He’s never seen a woman or a man fully…you know.”

  “In some primitive tribes, the kids see nudity right away, and it’s no big deal.”

  “We’re not a primitive tribe! Where is your sense?” Her words shredded him. She’d lost all patience with him.

  “We could go on ahead and check it out if you want,” I offered, trying to keep the peace.

  “What’s the matter with you?” she repeated to him.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Nathan spat. “Having a wife who lies to me!”

  “What?” she screeched, trying to keep quiet at the same time.

  “You told me there wouldn’t be a lot of people.” He gestured out the door to the crowds swarming the streets. “They’re everywhere!” He flailed his arms like a mental patient.

  Receding hairline counter guy even took notice.

  “Please,” she replied. “I’m getting sick of trying to accommodate all your…stuff.”

  It was cold. It was unemotional. Of course my thoughts drifted back to me. I was a freak show of quirks. What if someday Ellie saw me that way, as someone whose “stuff” she had to accommodate?

  Joanne tore out of the store and demanded we all head back in the other direction, where we met a very surprised Ellie on the sidewalk, holding a bag.

  “What did you get?” I asked.

  Ellie shoved it into her purse, not realizing I’d already seen it.

  “What do you mean?” she asked nervously.

  “I get it. I’m not supposed to know.” I smiled to myself, imagining my future Christmas present. After all, my birthday was already past.

  We headed back to the car, the kids out in front, anxiously awaiting the pool. We passed by an open bar where a TV was blaring some politician’s speech about gay marriage “destroying the fabric of our society.”

  I exhaled painfully and took Ellie’s hand.

  “That must be hard,” Joanne said.

  “I’m used to it,” I replied. “I love hearing that who I am is going to destroy society.” I had a permanently painted on, sarcastic smirk. “That’s the problem I have with gay marriage!”

  Everyone stopped and stared at me.

  “What?” I was confused. Why were they looking at me that way? “If Ellie and I were to do that, it still feels like a simulation of what’s considered the ‘norm.’ And I want to be
able to just be, you know? It should be romantic, not some debate on the news.” I shook my head and kept walking, not noticing the loud silence behind me.

  With each step, I took comfort in the rainbow flags waving from the upper balconies of shops and restaurants. I knew Ellie and I would always be welcome here.

  Before moving to New England, I was used to having no rights in central Florida. When I filled out forms at the doctor’s office, I had to check the “single” box even though I was with Valerie for twelve years. Where I grew up, nobody was gay, at least not out loud. When you never see or hear about something, it’s as if it doesn’t exist. And when I’d begun to realize I was different, I had no one except Boy George to relate to.

  I thought about the Congresswoman who talked about invisibility, how if we don’t speak out, we’re agreeing to not exist. Inside me, there was a constant, restless contradiction. My conscience was always at odds with just how far I was willing to go to overturn the status quo. I was a coward who would suffer more than your average coward because I was so intensely aware of the injustices I was turning my back on. Sure I had my blog. But it was a forum where I could safely complain. When it came time to turn up the volume, my mouth was covered with duct tape. I wasn’t proud of this. But I still preferred the Congresswoman to do the talking. I’d get too emotional and scramble all my words anyway, I’d rationalize.

  When we returned to the cottage, there was a strange car parked in the driveway. We opened the door, and Mom rose from the couch with arms outstretched.

  “Surprise!” she shouted.

  I was shocked. Mom hated flying. How did she get here? Did she drive all the way up from Florida?

  I gave her a big hug, then noticed Ellie. She was holding the doorframe to steady herself.

  “I’m sorry,” Mom said to Ellie. “I just couldn’t spend the night in that seedy motel. Did I mess up everything?”

  I looked at Mom, then Ellie, like a tennis match. “Mess what up?” I demanded.

  Everyone was acting so weird. They all knew a secret, and I was the only one not in on it.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Brotherly Love”

  “What’s going on?” I hollered. But no one would answer. My panic rose as they exchanged solemn glances.

  Then the doorbell rang. It was Bryan, Ellie’s brother, the one I hadn’t met, holding a bouquet of flowers. He looked just like the photos I’d seen of him, tall and lanky with Elvis-black hair. He looked like he’d been adopted.

  As if she could read my mind, Ellie quietly said, “My dad had dark hair.”

  “Oh.” I nodded and smiled at him as he moved the bouquet up and down, not sure where to put it. Something about him reminded me of myself.

  “Hi, all,” he announced awkwardly. “I wasn’t sure what to bring to a lesbian wedding, so I thought flowers? Or is that weird? Should I have brought tools?”

  “Lesbian wedding?” All the blood rushed out of my body. “Whose wedding?”

  Everyone stared blankly, as Ellie took the flowers from him.

  “She doesn’t know yet,” Mom sighed.

  “These are great, thanks,” Ellie said softly, bringing Bryan inside and introducing him to everyone.

  The Atlantic churned under a full, orange moon. We all sat on the back deck, sipping drinks, as the secret spilled out.

  “I was going to surprise you,” Ellie told me softly. “Tomorrow.”

  “We’re the lesbian wedding?”

  “I want to marry you.”

  My heart started doing cartwheels. Even though we’d already talked about this, even though she knew I didn’t want to be one of those same-sex couples getting married on the local news, even though she knew I was still on the fence about being a mother…even though everything on my compass pointed in the opposite direction, she thought this was a good idea.

  “Why? What? How…wh…” I began to babble like I’d taken an experimental drug.

  I went inside to pop open another beer. I jumped at the sight of my sister suddenly right next to me.

  “Just stay calm,” she said. It was ironic coming from her.

  “So this was the secret?”

  “I’m sorry I was so obvious.”

  “Don’t be. I didn’t have a clue.” I took a big swig, downing half the bottle.

  “The woman you love is out there, scared to death you’d react like this, even more afraid you’ll say no. Now you love her. So what’s the problem?”

  “What’s the problem?” I repeated. “What’s the problem?” My mind raced. I couldn’t retrieve words fast enough. I rubbed my face.

  “Is it Văldemort?”

  “No.” I couldn’t explain. That was the truth. The whole gay marriage thing—it felt almost like being among the first African Americans to eat at a suddenly integrated diner where you knew the white patrons still didn’t want you there. Somehow I can’t imagine the food tasted all that great. “I love her. She loves me. Isn’t that enough?”

  Joanne considered this. “What’s wrong with her wanting to celebrate that love with family and friends?”

  She was right. “It’s such a surprise,” I breathed.

  “It’s romantic,” Joanne replied. “The last romantic thing we did was put in a new bathroom floor.”

  “What about a marriage license?” I was looking for an escape.

  “You can do that when you get home,” Joanne said. “This was the only time Nathan and I could come up and Mom too. Ellie wanted us all to be here for you. I think she’s really thoughtful and sweet.”

  “She was married to a man.”

  “Oh.” There was a certain understanding on Joanne’s face.

  “That’s what she did with him. For her, marriage makes it more official, I think. But not for me.”

  Joanne nodded. “You and Val never had that.”

  “We didn’t need it.”

  “You think she doesn’t take things seriously unless you have a ceremony?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “I know,” Joanne said. “I can tell she takes your relationship just as seriously as you do. But this means something to her. You should be flattered.”

  I remembered Joanne’s beautiful wedding. She had wanted it to be reminiscent of a romantic Masterpiece Theatre movie, minus the foggy English moors. Everything was perfect, except for the freshly cut flowers I had to hold that dripped all over the front of my dress. Everything else was perfect, though.

  I made invisible shapes on the kitchen counter. “You do have a nice bathroom,” I said. I was stalling.

  Ellie looked through the sliding door, probably certain I was going to say no. As usual, I’d ruined everything. I was the one you could always count on to step in the cow pie at any party.

  Joanne left the moment Ellie came in. Then it was just the two of us under the glaring lights of the kitchen. I was nervous and sweating, and I felt familiar rushes of heat running up and down my back.

  “Your face is red,” Ellie said. “You okay?”

  “Yeah. We were just talking.”

  “I figured. A sister thing.”

  How could she be so understanding? I’d be upset if it were my surprise. “Sorry I wrecked your surprise.”

  “It doesn’t have to be wrecked, unless you’re saying no.”

  I watched her lower her eyes; she looked suddenly so vulnerable, dangling herself out there.

  I had to know what I wanted. And I had to know in a matter of seconds. The pressure was too much. My stomach gurgled.

  “We already live together,” I said. “Why do you want to do this? You want to commit to me in front of the whole world?”

  “Just a few friends and family.”

  “But I’m crazy! I’m insane! I have to wash my hands after touching doorknobs! I worry about my intestines every day.”

  She held me either to comfort me or to make me shut up. “I thought we could do a small ceremony on the beach,” she said.

  On a beach without bathroo
ms. The thought crashed down in a bolt of lightning, and I started pacing the white tiled floor. “Oh my God. A ceremony.”

  “Breathe. You need a paper bag?”

  We were doing breathing exercises. That wasn’t a good sign for a magical wedding weekend.

  “I was thinking barefoot at sunset.” She slid her arms around my waist to comfort me. By this time I was panting hard.

  “How could you…why would you…” I screeched. “There are no…restrooms! What if I have to pee?”

  “You can go in the ocean.” She was unbelievably calm, holding on, silent minutes passing by, squeezing me tighter in the hopes I’d change my mind. It worked.

  “If I was going to get married,” I said slowly, “it would be to you.”

  “That’s a start.” Ellie was dangling off a cliff.

  You know all those times in your life when you wish you had a do-over? My response to Ellie would likely be one of those times. Of course I loved her. I couldn’t have handled two kids and all the stresses we dealt with every day with anyone else.

  I took a deep breath. “Yes,” I said. “I’ll marry you on a beach without restrooms.”

  She screamed a joyful scream, lifted me off the floor and spun me around. I think I heard clapping from everyone else and maybe a few sighs of relief.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  “Commitment or Committed”

  “So everybody’s happy now?” Joanne raised her glass tentatively.

  I nodded, as Ellie led me back out to the deck, squeezing my hand.

  “Thank God,” Joanne said.

  “Yeah, those plane tickets were non-refundable,” Nathan added.

  Joanne glared at him.

  “Let’s get the party started!” Bryan exclaimed, crossing his legs like a woman, his eyes fixed on Nathan.

  “Once I get these done,” Nathan said, flipping burgers like a madman.

  Bryan came over to the grilling area. Ellie had forgotten to introduce him to Nathan.

  “Are you married?” Bryan asked.