Keep Her Forever

by Maria Jackson

  “With work?”

  “Work, homeownership… Sometimes I go to events in NYC to keep up with style stuff, too. It’s not like a regular 9-to-5 job, you know? When you’re self-employed, it’s easy to let the work take over your life.”

  I still had no idea what gender she was into. Both? Neither? I let out a sigh, unwilling to push the conversation further. I’d let the subject come up naturally next time. Surely it would at some point.

  The fact that she was into fashion seemed to indicate that she was straight. Or did it? A lesbian would certainly enjoy looking at hot girls’ pictures all day. Then again, I’d looked at her blog, and she made several in-depth posts a week on all kinds of topics. Someone who was having fun looking at sexy pictures wouldn’t get so much done.

  More likely, she was straight. And even more likely, it didn’t matter. I lived with her, and therefore I wasn’t going to let anything happen.

  I wished things could be different between us… because if things kept going like this, it wouldn’t be long before I was head over heels.

  SEVEN—TOPAZ

  I shut the door to make sure Diamond wouldn’t barge in, then logged onto the computer and began my morning routine. I opened a few blogs, scanned through the latest from a few street style photographers, and searched up the images from Dolce & Gabbana’s latest show. Every picture that I looked at got me more wound-up and tense.

  What was going on with me these days? I’d been going through this routine every day for a couple of years. I ran my blog for a year before I even started to monetize. It took another two years for me to go full-time. Yet lately, I couldn’t seem to ignore my forbidden cravings like I used to.

  I used to work in accounting, which was a lot easier. There was no temptation in sight. Now staring at these women was pushing me into a state of frustration.

  I scanned up and down one girl’s body. She bore a vague resemblance to Heidi—tall and fresh-faced, with the same type of slate-gray eyes. She had a great body, too. I licked my lips, for once allowing myself to enjoy the sight. Her clothes were the last thing I was thinking about.

  Maybe I was worked up because I’d caught Heidi coming out of the shower last night. Maybe I was extra-frustrated because I didn’t trust that I could touch myself without thinking of her, so I didn’t do it at all. In any case, the pictures today had me questioning how long I could keep going like this.

  I knew what Heidi was getting at when she asked me about my love life a few days ago. That she was trying to figure out whether or not I was straight. And I knew that if it ever came down to it, if she ever asked me directly, I’d say I was.

  Whenever the question came into people’s minds, I was quick to deny the truth. I told them I liked men, and no one else. Heidi had seemed a little doubtful about my careful answers. I’d seen the look in her eyes that asked why I hadn’t said more about my love life. Even then, I refused to be upfront. How could I, when I couldn’t even say the words to myself?

  I’m a lesbian. As soon as they went through my mind, I pushed them right out again. They were unbearable to me. Being in my profession, it wouldn’t be a problem at all. The fashion world was very comfortable with the LGBT community, although there were definitely more gay men than women.

  My family would have much more of a problem. My parents were wealthy conservatives who vocally expressed their disgust when same-sex marriage first became legal. I knew what I was getting into when I came out.

  Yeah, I came out. Ten fucking years ago.

  I let my head sink to my desk as the memories I tried so hard to forget came back to me. Like many things, coming out seemed like a good idea at the time. My parents were so against the gays, but they didn’t know any in real life. At fifteen, I was optimistic enough to think I’d tell them and they’d change their minds.

  Instead, they’d changed mine. “It’s a phase,” my mother had said—literally clutching her pearls. My father, face red from the large glass of scotch he’d just downed, was quick to agree with her. They talked me through it, giving me reason after reason that I couldn’t “go on with this.” By the end, they had me convinced I was fooling myself.

  And when those desires started coming back over and over, refusing to go away, I knew I’d never be able to tell anyone about them.

  I sat up slowly and clicked through more pictures, resigned to my situation. Maybe I needed a new job, something where I’d be less tempted. I was sure I could still find something in accounting. It shouldn’t be too hard. I still remembered all of my skills… and how much I hated using them.

  Blogging was what I loved, and I was still proud of myself for being able to make a paying job out of it. I vowed to crush down my horrible desires rather than let them force me out of the career I’d worked so hard for.

  I clicked over to a Word document and typed a few words about the kind of jackets I was seeing lately. But that couldn’t hold my attention, not when Heidi herself was only feet away. She was probably showering right now, getting ready for work. If I listened hard, I could convince myself I heard the faint sound of singing.

  The tension had been building between us lately. I’d never felt quite like this before. Sure, I’d been frustrated, but not to this extent. The temptation was never quite as blatant. Never in my house, wandering around in a towel with beads of water dripping out of their hair.

  I went back to the Internet and opened Heidi’s Facebook. Her main picture was one I’d taken—her hugging Diamond on my doorstep and grinning into the camera. I sighed. She might never make it onto a style blog, but that grin of hers was enough style all on its own.

  Would it be so bad to admit my attraction, at least to myself? What was the worst that could happen? I let myself picture it for a minute. Telling her I liked her. Maybe, just maybe, having my feelings be returned…

  No. It wasn’t possible. I’d never be able to face my parents as an open lesbian. I may not have talked to them often, but their hold on me was strong. I knew what they would say, and worse, what they would think.

  The idea of sneaking around behind their backs crossed my mind, and it made me want to vomit. Deceit and lies weren’t what I was about. And Heidi, or whatever girl I might date, deserved way more than to be a shameful secret.

  If I had to choose between living true to myself or not living at all, I’d already made my decision. I had to stay on this path I’d created. There was no other option… even if my resolve was weakening a little more with each passing day. My gut twisted, and I thought I still might vomit.

  A knock came at the door, and I quickly exited Heidi’s profile before I looked over at her. “Hey.” I put a hand on my stomach, hoping to settle it.

  “Hey, Tope. I wanted to see if you wanted me to take Diamond for her walk. If you’re taking her out twice later, I don’t mind doing it now.”

  In the past few weeks, we’d transitioned from taking Diamond for two long walks a day to three short ones. She still had a lot of energy, but she seemed less keen on walking for long periods of time as her pregnancy advanced.

  “Oh, that’s all right,” I said. “You can take her now if you’re busy later. Whatever works.”

  Heidi shrugged, a sexy gesture that raised her shirt to flash the barest glimpse of her stomach. Not that I was looking. Not that I cared.

  “Okay, I’ll take her in a sec. What are you working on?” she asked, taking a tentative step inside the room.

  “I’m just getting started for the day,” I said. “Been a bit lazy so far. I guess I’m looking forward to shopping this afternoon. It’s been a long, boring week.”

  “Thanks a lot,” she said.

  I laughed, all of my stress dissipating. We’d hung out pretty much every evening this week. We never got sick of each other, either. “You know what I mean. A long week of work.”

  “Got it,” she said. “You’re forgiven. By the way, what ever happened to the makeover you were going to give me?”

  I blinked a few times, sudde
nly tense. I’d hoped she’d forgotten that offer. “I didn’t say a makeover. I offered to give you a style refresh. There’s a big difference.” Either way, it would mean touching her, measuring her, smelling her… I shivered.

  “What’s the difference?”

  “Makeovers are for old ladies. Style refreshes are trendy. Plus, that’s what I call the service I offer on the blog.”

  “Oh, I see.” She raised her eyebrows at me. “You charge for it, so you don’t want to do a freebie. How much would it be? Now that I started thinking about it, I’m kind of sick of the clothes I have now. I could use an upgrade.”

  “It’s not about the money,” I said. “You do plenty of work around the house, not to mention with Diamond. Pretty sure I would’ve torn out my hair from not knowing what I’m supposed to do with a pregnant dog if you weren’t around.”

  “Then let’s do it.”

  Do a style refresh, I reminded myself. “We’ll do it when there’s time. I should be getting back to work now.”

  “Oops, sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you. I’ll get Diamond.”

  In the afternoon, I browsed around the thrift store I always went to on Fridays. I’d been looking for the perfect blazer—dark brown and ideally velvet—for a long time. It would have completed so many of my outfits.

  I made my way through the blazer section, examining each one in turn. A lighter brown could work. At this point, I’d even settle for black. I fingered the soft material of one blazer, wishing it could be a size smaller. Thrift stores didn’t work like that, though, and that was what made it so special when I did find the perfect piece.

  After an hour, I hadn’t found anything I wanted to buy. Definitely no amazing deals for my weekly thrift store finds post. That was okay. I’d found a few things last week, and I could do a write-up on one of them instead.

  When I got home, Heidi was there as soon as I opened the door. I caught my breath, still not used to having to face temptation in my own home.

  “Hey,” she said, kneeling beside Diamond. “Went out for your shopping afternoon?”

  Damn it, she even remembered my schedule—as if I needed another reason to like her. “Yeah. Didn’t find anything, though.”

  “No luck with the blazer you’ve been looking for?”

  I poured myself a glass of juice, hoping it might chill the heat building inside me. “None.” I swigged the juice down. No luck with that either.

  “What’s even the point of a blazer? Why not just wear a jacket?”

  “They look good,” I said simply. “Anyway, what’s up with you?”

  “I was just thinking Diamond’s due date is only two weeks away. We should probably make her a whelping box.”

  Frowning, I put my glass in the sink. “A what?”

  “A whelping box. It’s the place where she’s going to give birth. She needs some time to get used to it and get comfortable inside.”

  “All right, anything for Diamond.” The dog was currently sitting on the ground with her nose under her paws, tail folded around her. “How do we do it?”

  “I took the liberty of bringing home the materials,” Heidi said, gesturing at the table behind her. A flattened cardboard box was the first thing I saw. “It’s not the sturdiest, but it’ll do. I figure we’ll throw it out afterward.”

  Making sure to keep several feet between me and Heidi, I approached the table. Unfolding the box, I took a good look. It seemed a little small for Diamond and the puppies she was soon going to have. “Shouldn’t it be bigger?”

  “There’s enough room for Diamond to lie down and stretch out, or for her to turn around,” Topaz said distractedly as she built the box. “We don’t want it to be too big. The puppies need to stay close to her.”

  The movements caught Diamond’s interest, and she came over to investigate. I pushed her gently aside. “All right. Now what?”

  “Now we cut a door for Diamond to go in and out.” She already had an X-Acto knife in her hand. Her face went serious and she focused as she made the cut. I shouldn’t have been watching her so closely. Maybe my resistance was getting weak.

  I cleared my throat. “Next?”

  “We’re going to line the floor with some bedding. That’s what the newspaper on the table is for.”

  “And here I was thinking you suddenly got really interested in current events.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Come on, help me shred this.”

  She could’ve done all of this without me—I was probably getting in the way more than helping—but I didn’t even feel bad about it. I just enjoyed watching her. She was so knowledgeable and so loving, and her care for that dog was incredible.

  I found myself fighting my attraction to her even more as she guided me through each new step. Just being physically close to her had me heating up, and my pulse spiked every time she spoke to me. If I closed my eyes, I could remember those few minutes before we met when all I knew of her was that warm, mellow voice. And even then, I wanted her…

  “That’s it?” I asked as we tore up the last bits of paper.

  “That’s it,” Heidi said. “For a bigger dog, I’d put in a guard rail, but it’s not necessary with one Diamond’s size. Let’s see how she feels about her new box.”

  She picked the dog up, being extra-gentle, and set her down inside. Diamond walked in a circle, checking out each wall. With inquisitive eyes, she looked up as if she was looking for guidance on what to do here.

  I reached down and scratched behind her ears. “That’s right, girl. You’re doing great. You’re perfect.”

  I was so lucky to have found both Heidi and Diamond. This inter-species family I’d created here made me all kinds of happy.

  I just hoped I could keep suppressing my desire for Heidi. Giving in to it would be like jumping off a cliff. There would be no coming back, and only devastation awaited me at the bottom.

  The thing was, every minute I spent with her made me feel like I was teetering a little closer to the edge.

  EIGHT—HEIDI

  “She’s a fashion blogger?” Liana demanded. “How did that never come up before?”

  Elbow on the hotel counter, I shifted the phone in my hand. “Why would you care?”

  “Because I never would’ve told you to go after her if I’d known,” she said, her voice coming through loud and clear over the line. “That’s basically a guarantee that she’s straight.”

  I jumped at the sound of the door, but no one was coming into the hotel. The afternoon was so slow that I’d had the place to myself for a while. I hadn’t talked to Liana in a few days, so it seemed like a good time to call… until she started pestering me about my roommate.

  My feelings weren’t going anywhere. I was developing a full-blown, hair-twirling, daydreaming, soft-sighing crush on Topaz.

  “You don’t think a lesbian could have a fashion blog?” I asked. “Or a bisexual?”

  “Maybe if the blog is about lesbian fashion.” She sounded thoroughly unconvinced. “Either way, I’m still excited because she might get you into something less terrible than what you usually wear.”

  “You don’t like my clothes, either?”

  Liana neatly avoided the question. “So she did mention that to you.”

  “Well, she was supposed to give me a makeover. Or a style refresh, as she called it. But we haven’t gotten around to picking a date.”

  “You should pick one. You really, really should.”

  “What’s so wrong with how I dress?”

  “Nothing is wrong with what you’re wearing right now, but…”

  I knew Liana could picture the red-and-white collared shirt I was wearing at the moment—I wore similar ones five days a week. She’d dropped by here a million times to pick up something she’d forgotten at my place, or occasionally to bring me lunch. She was still in school, so her daytimes were relatively free.

  “Okay, my uniform passes approval. What about how I dress outside of work?”

  “I mean, nothing is
technically wrong with it,” she said, her voice dripping sarcasm. “It’s just, you know, sweatpants are supposed to be for when you’re sweating. And ancient sweatshirts are fantastic… if you’re also ancient.”

  “So closed-minded,” I told her. “I happen to like how cardigans look, so what’s stopping me from wearing them?”

  “Only good sense, good ideas, and good taste.” Liana’s voice was flat. “It’s a wonder your roommate can even stand to look at you.”

  Maybe she had something there. If I was more stylish, it might be easier to work my way into Topaz’s heart. Her “type,” if she even liked women, would doubtless be girls as trendy as her. The kind of women with well-tailored jackets and shoes that cost more than my entire wardrobe. Women who wore blazers.

  “So you think I should let her give me a makeover?” I asked.

  “Should you do it? Are you even kidding? Can you not see the romantic potential in a makeover?”

  I tapped my fingers on the counter in front of me. “I’m not sure. What do you think would happen?”

  Liana sighed as if she were talking to an idiot. “Heidi, it’s a makeover. She’s going to be getting all up close and personal with you. She’ll have to check you out to figure out what size you should be wearing. You’ll take your shirt off and she’ll give you a new one.”

  That did sound appealing.

  “And when it’s two girls, you’re not going to go hide in another room when you’re changing. You’ll be half-naked the entire time. She’ll be adjusting you, touching you. Her breath on your skin, her fingers running along your body…”

  She was getting kind of carried away with this fantasy.

  “Okay, that wouldn’t be so bad,” I admitted.

  “Oh, I’m not done,” she said. “After her work is done, she’ll take a step back and look at her masterpiece. She’ll be so amazed at her own work, she’ll be unable to control herself. She’ll take your collar, pretending to fix it, but she’ll really just want an excuse to touch you. She’ll move her hand around to the back of your head and then pull you in, slowly…”