by Cynthia Dane
“How did Mom hide the fact that she wasn’t pregnant? Didn’t people ask questions when she suddenly started carting me around?”
“There have always been rumors, but you know how Mom is. She quashes them like bugs, or at least stares at people until they stop asking questions. I don’t doubt that lots of people we know had figured it out long ago, but they wouldn’t dare say anything. What business is it of theirs, anyway?” Leah rubbed her daughter’s leg. She only flinched a little. “The only ones hurt the most in all of this were us. We were never allowed to have the right kind of relationship.”
“You could’ve changed that!”
“Could I?” Leah thought back to her teenaged years. The last thing she wanted was the responsibility of raising a child while in high school. “I didn’t have any power when I was your age, Karlie. The only thing I was allowed when you were born was naming you, but you knew that already.”
Karlie grinned, but only for a moment. It had always been a sweet anecdote that Leah had been “allowed” to choose Karlie’s name. Only it used to be told as a “can you believe it?” story, as opposed to the natural truth. Of course the woman who gave birth to her was allowed to name her! Even though Mom thought it was the dumbest name she had ever heard.
“Even though I was a dumb teenager,” Leah left out the part where angsty, teenaged her was grateful to be “washed” of Karlie, “I still loved you with all of my heart. You were my sister as far as you were concerned, but deep down I wrestled with a mother’s love. Why do you think we’re so close, though I’m from another generation? You may have thought of me as your sister, but you never stopped being my daughter.”
Karlie slowly sank into Leah’s awaiting embrace. “I wish you told me a long time ago.”
“I know. Me too. It’s always been a terrible truth to carry in my heart. The older you got, the harder I knew it would be to tell you one day. That’s why I tried to get as much as I could out of our relationship.”
“Did you think I would want to be rid of you forever or something?”
“How are you taking it right now?”
Karlie pushed her face into her mother’s bosom. Curly hair, identical to Leah’s, obscured the rest of her visage. “It’s like everything has changed.”
“Because it has. Now you know the truth of this family. You can’t ever go back to the person you used to be.”
“Like you, right?”
Leah squeezed her daughter. “No. Never. But I don’t think I’d want to go back, anyway.”
They remained like that for a few minutes, until Karlie pulled out of her mother’s embrace and asked, “What happened to my father?”
Leah allowed her fingers to linger in her daughter’s hair. I made this hair. It’s like she took it right from my scalp and made it her own. Only a mother could have those thoughts and not instantly regret them. “He got off the easiest, of course. He knew about you, but after my mother said she would be raising the baby, she told him that he would have no part of your life. I think he was too young to fully understand what that meant, but it’s not like his parents stood up for him, anyway.” Leah hadn’t minded it. She didn’t want that constant reminder hovering around her. It was bad enough she lied to herself for most of her teenaged years. If Daryl were constantly coming by? She might have exploded.
“Does he know about me?”
“As it so happens…” Leah hesitated. Was it best to tell her about this? “I saw him the other day at the bookstore. He said he was proud that you were going to college.”
Karlie wiped a tear from her eye. “So he still lives in Portland?”
“He’s married now.” Leah wondered what his wife was like. “He also has two more kids. Much younger than you. Barely in elementary school, if that.”
“I have other siblings out there?”
Leah took her daughter’s hand. “The world is a strange place, isn’t it? Weird to think that you didn’t know any of this before today.” I wonder if Daryl would ever want anything to do with his oldest child. How absolved was he from this, anyway?
“Are you still gay, LeeLee?”
Leah almost couldn’t believe what Karlie had asked. “You kidding me? The only reason your grandmother puts up with my lesbian shenanigans is because it means I’m not having any more babies, but it’s not why I’m gay.” She shrugged. “I was doing things much too young. Too young to realize that my sexual feelings weren’t meant for boys. I had a girlfriend in high school. I wish… well, I wish she had been my first, but instead, she was my second.”
“I always did wonder how Mom put up with that. She always seemed the type to spout homophobic stuff if prompted.”
“Your grandmother is a complicated woman who has put up with a lot in her life. Including from me.”
“Does this mean I can’t call you LeeLee anymore? Do I…” Karlie looked away. “Do I have to call you Mom now?”
“You do whatever’s comfortable for you. You’re the one making all the adjustments right now. I’m not going to be offended if you keep calling me your sister or by my first name.”
“You promise?”
“Why would I lie? You’re a silly girl, sunshine.”
Karlie giggled. “Turns out I have a young and hip mom after all. Who knew?”
“Hip? You think I’m hip?”
“Yeah! You’re doing what you want for a living, and you’re dating people who fly you First-Class to Chicago!”
Leah couldn’t help but frown. “Hate to break it to you, but I broke up with her today.”
“You did?”
“Yeah… it wasn’t going to work out. Turns out she’s married.”
“Ouch.” Karlie couldn’t help but laugh again. “We’re both having a day, huh? Is that why you came home so early?”
Leah patted her daughter’s head. “I’ll tell you about it later. I need to unpack and get settled in. Are you… going to be okay?”
“I think so. It’s a lot to process.”
“Well, if you have any questions, it’s best to ask me first. Let’s leave Mom out of it as much as we can.” Leah stopped in her daughter’s bedroom doorway, “She’s not a terrible person, though. She always made sure you were fed and clothed. You know she’s helping you to get as much financial aid for college, right? She knows way more about that than I do. I’m… well, I get by.”
“Leah?”
“Yeah?”
Karlie sighed. “Did you stay home this whole time to be with me?”
Leah offered her daughter a wan smile. “That may have been a part of it. As Mom kept telling me, I had responsibilities, but I did it because I wanted to, too.”
She left her daughter’s room before they could get more sentimental. Besides, Leah had her own wounds to bandage, and that was best done in the privacy of her own room.
A great portion of you was developed in this room, Karlie. Leah had spent most of her pregnancy holed up in her room, listening to music that took her mind off things and writing stories that would never see the light of day. That was back before she had a phone or reliable access to the internet, too. Leah, her thoughts, and the baby growing inside of her. Every time Karlie asked to borrow CDs from the early 2000s, Leah couldn’t help but laugh that her Linkin’ Park habit had some effect on her sister.
Her daughter. She could officially call Karlie her daughter now.
Who knew turning thirty would be this exhausting? A whirlwind romance with a woman with more troubles than Leah could count. Her daughter finding out the truth about her birth. A grand end to any innocence she still had after giving birth at thirteen.
Leah fell asleep as soon as her head hit her pillow. She never took off the black pearls or the cashmere turtleneck. When she woke up in the middle of the night, she still smelled of Sloan’s cigarettes and the shame they both felt when Leah left Chicago.
Chapter 27
A second gin and tonic appeared before Sloan, who remained slumped at the bar, head in one hand and her pho
ne in the other. Theoretically, the phone would be attached to her head while she either talked to Ayla or arranged more business meetings to make her current visit to California profitable.
Too bad she didn’t give a shit. She hadn’t given a shit about anything since Leah left Chicago two days ago.
“Fuck me,” she muttered to the bartender. The man cleaned out a glass and pretended to not hear her. “I’m the biggest idiot in the world.”
She was the only half-drunk asshole in the lounge, but she also couldn’t give a shit about that. Her meeting wasn’t until seven that evening, and by then she should be sobered up enough to talk about her impending divorce and separation from Giles & Sloan.
One of the messages on her phone was from the divorce lawyer she hired the week before. The plan was to tell Aaron about it once Leah was gone. Well! That certainly had happened! As soon as Leah was driven to O’Hare, Sloan marched into her husband’s office and told him to go to hell.
He had done enough to ruin her fucking life.
An excursion to California was necessary, though it felt wrong to be on the west coast and not finagling a way to see Leah. Stop thinking about her. She had every right to dump your damaged ass. This was what Sloan got for charging into a relationship long before she was ready. Like I’d ever be ready.
“Told you,” a voice behind Sloan said. “She’s in here getting sloshed.”
Was I supposed to meet you tonight? I don’t remember. Sloan attempted to turn in her stool, but it took both women standing behind her to help her sit upright again. She was only on her second gin, so why was she… ah, yes. Because she had beer for lunch and chased it down with a shot of tequila before coming to the lounge. It had been a miracle she looked the definition of sober when she sat down and ordered her first gin.
“The hell are you two doing here?” Who the fuck was that other woman standing beside Maxine? Who was I supposed to meet tonight… God, I don’t remember. Supposedly, it was the woman who would single-handedly give Sloan a financial leg-up when she finally left Giles & Sloan. That was the agreement she made with Erica Mann. “You got a problem with me?”
Maxine’s eyes widened as she contained a laugh. “Calm down, Crazy Pants. We were elsewhere when we heard on the grapevine that the Biggest Cunt in America was seen at La Lucia Lounge getting her drink on. We simply had to investigate.”
“Fuck you.”
“You’re not my type,” Erica said, keeping close to Sloan should she slump out of her seat again. Fancy seeing you do that, you tiny elf. Okay, so Erica was what… 5’7? But she was the most muscular one there. Is that what it’s like growing up a boy? You get to hit the gym more than anyone else? Yeah, yeah, Erica was female, but damn if she didn’t make living the man-life particularly attractive. Damn. Do I wanna be her, or do I wanna fuck her? Wouldn’t be a bad idea for a rebound. Too bad Erica had a girlfriend.
Both of these bitches had girlfriends! Seriously, how dare they?
“How about we get some food in you while we order drinks?” Maxine glanced at the menu. “I trust you can get Sloppy Jalopy there in one piece?”
Sloan couldn’t put up a fight as she was pulled off her stool and dragged to the small table in the far corner of the lounge. La Lucia was one of the most exclusive, upscale day-lounges in LA. What made Sloan think she would get any privacy here? She sat in the chair farthest from the door, and pretended that Erica hadn’t forgotten to grab the gin off the bar. Water, huh? Fucking water!
Maxine brought drinks for herself and Erica, while Sloan received a bowl of nuts and a bag of gourmet popcorn. She was expected to eat it and start sobering up. Now.
“This isn’t where we’re having the meeting,” Sloan grunted when she was surrounded.
“Oh, this isn’t the formal meeting, dear.” Maxine knocked back her shot of whatever and promptly followed it with fresh, bottled water. Erica had yet to touch her drink. “This is us cleaning you up before you try to do any work. It’s what friends do, in case you’ve forgotten.”
“You’re not my friends.”
“We’re the closest thing to friends you have right now,” Erica snapped. “Which is rich for me to say, because you’re such a pain in our asses.”
Sloan didn’t deny it. “You’re right. I’m a bitch. I’ve made it my life’s mission to fuck everyone over. It’s the only way I know how to function.”
“Yes, yes, you’re the most alpha female in the room. The nastiest, most unpleasant…” Maxine fumbled for more colorful descriptions.
“Don’t forget I’m the sexiest, too.”
“Debatable.”
“Bah!” Sloan fisted the synthetic strands of her wig. “You guys suck as friends!”
“So what happened, exactly?” Maxine propped her chin up on her hand, her flawless makeup only slightly marred when she absentmindedly scratched at the corner of her eye. Who needed makeup, anyway? Sloan hadn’t worn a bit that day, and she felt great! “This can’t merely be about your divorce, unless the bastard has decided to take more than he’s due in a court of law.” She chuckled. “Is this about that woman you’ve been seen in the press with? I have to say, she’s really cute. What was her name again?” She looked to Erica. “Leah Vaughn?”
“Why are you looking at me?” Erica had no idea what to do with her purse. She looked like a woman who had never in her life contended with a bag half her size. She really is a newb at this, huh? That almost made Sloan feel better about her own predicament – at least she had always been herself, whether she believed somebody else’s false narrative of what that meant. Looking at you, loser husband of mine. God. That felt like a lifetime ago. The woman who happily, foolishly married Aaron Giles was long dead. Not even memories of the honeymoon across Asia and the Caribbean could soothe her heart.
At least she wasn’t fumbling with a bag that was probably full of useless crap somebody told Erica Mann she needed to cart around to assert her womanhood. At least Sloan had that.
“I’m looking at you because you look a damn fool with that thing.” Maxine snatched the bag from Erica’s hands and shoved it beneath her chair. “You’re rich enough to afford pockets. Get some.”
Sloan may have been half-drunk, but she was clear-headed enough to recognize gal-pal camaraderie that never happened in the boardroom. How well do they know each other? Maxine was infamous for being a bitchy hardass – although not quite at Sloan’s cutthroat level – and Erica had gone through life posing as a man until a few months ago. There was no way they were friends before Christmas at the earliest. Was it really that easy for them to hit it off after Erica revealed her identity?
Well, shit. What did that say about Sloan, who couldn’t say she had a single friend?
These women called themselves her friends, but she assumed it was sarcasm. What if she were reading the signs wrong?
“So,” Maxine resumed, focusing her attention back on Sloan, “what happened with her?”
“With who?”
Maxine rolled her eyes. “You know who I’m talking about. The woman you were seeing. Don’t tell me she was a publicity stunt to piss off your husband.”
“No, but she totally did. So I got that going for me.” Sloan pinched the bridge of her nose. “He read me to filth, because one of our biggest investors is Harold Wright…”
Both Erica and Maxine cringed. Harold was one of the biggest names in national investments, but the only people who got along with him were his sons and the people who went to the same exact church as him. Same denomination doesn’t cut it. Has to be the same church. The man wouldn’t shut the fuck up about it the other day! Instead of being with her girlfriend, Sloan had to hear all about how they should join Harold’s church and be the next “star couple.” Aaron was so invested in Harold believing that they had a wholesome marriage that it was only natural for her to run out and fuck Leah as soon as possible.
“So, yeah. Harold saw the pictures, and that’s how everything came crashing down. He harassed Leah, and now sh
e won’t talk to me.”
“Uh huh.” Maxine narrowed her eyes. “There’s something you’re not sharing, though. Like… did you happen to ever tell Leah that you’re married?”
“Oh, shut up. What the fuck do you know?”
“I know that you’re the type of woman to keep her marriage so deep in the gutter that the only people who know about it are you and him. Hell, the only reason I know you’re married is because I’ve known you for years.” Maxine leaned forward. “I remember when you were quite open with your marriage.”
“The fuck do you know about that? You were what, a fetus when that happened?”
“I was an adult. A young adult, but still an adult. You don’t remember inviting me to your wedding?”
“You didn’t come.”
“Because I’m not a big fan of lesbian-finding-her-one-exception-whiplash.” Maxine shrugged. “If it makes you feel better, my own wife did that to me a few years later. Maybe it was karma for not attending your kinky, heteronormative wedding.”
Sloan glared at Erica. “What’s your excuse for not going?”
“Oh, I went to your wedding. You don’t remember because I was dressed like a man.”
“What are you trying to say?”
Both women glanced at one another. “Only that you were still gay as hell even when you were marrying some man.”
“He wasn’t some man, okay?” Sloan was desperate enough for something to drink that she stole Erica’s untouched glass. Yuck. Bourbon. Whatever got the job done, she supposed. “He got into my head! He made me feel like the world made sense! I… I loved him?”
