"I thought they didn't know," I said, confused.
Faye tilted her head, admitting she'd omitted something. "They kind of know."
I had to know what had happened that had unraveled Faye so much. Faye stared at nothing in particular in front of her, as though she were watching something I couldn't see on the countertop. She was far away for a moment as she debated whether she should tell me.
Everything within me leaned toward her, begging her to tell me why she was so distraught. "What happened?"
"I was nineteen," Faye said. The way her voice was wavering let me know that this was difficult for her to say. "It was the end of our freshman year. She was my roommate."
Now I was starting to see where this was going. Maybe, like me, she had someone who had unraveled her.
"She came home drunk. I was standing over my bed folding laundry because I was a nerd who did laundry in the middle of the night on Saturday."
She took a deep breath, committing herself to finishing her story.
"I was standing there, and she came up behind me and spun me around and just — she just kissed me. Out of the blue. Then she laughed and pulled me backwards onto her bed. I didn't even know she liked-" Faye's words choked off, and I could hear the terror that had coursed through her then.
"Was it a good kiss?" I asked, letting a soft, playful smile flit across my face for a moment, hoping she would remember that not everyone was shocked by two girls kissing.
But she grew more flustered. "It was over before I knew what was happening."
I was sad for her, and wondered if the kisses I gave her echoed any of the terror I saw in her eyes now.
When the silence grew overwhelming, I quietly asked, "What did you do?"
Faye trembled a little more. "A lot," she said. "Stuff happened."
"Good stuff?"
Faye winced and nodded. "She said she thought I was hot, and the alcohol just gave her the courage."
I knew all too well that alcohol was the social lubricant Faye usually needed to kiss girls.
"She was — she was so beautiful." Faye stared ahead of her and I thought I saw a hint of a smile on her face as she remembered this mysterious roommate.
"Did she have a name?" I asked carefully.
"Andrea," Faye said. "She was really beautiful," she echoed.
At that, I felt Faye opening. Or at least I thought I did. I thought I had an opportunity to slip my hand into hers. So I did, and she didn't pull away.
"Well," I said, giving her hand a squeeze I hoped was welcome. "I think you're really beautiful."
She ducked her head so her hair fell in front of her face, but I thought I saw a smile. I had said the right thing, for once.
"You have to watch out for beautiful girls," she mumbled.
"Why's that?" I asked, thinking she was joking.
Faye slumped, and I felt her shiver again. She seemed so fragile. She sniffled and said, "Because they'll tell your parents."
Shocked and upset for Faye's outing, I said immediately, "Faye, I would never tell your parents. Ever."
Faye sniffled again. "That's what Andrea said too."
Now I was upset. Who in her right mind would stab someone as beautiful and scared as Faye in the back?
"What?"
Faye nodded, biting her lips. "She said she'd let me come out when I was ready, but then she found out about me and Isaiah..." Faye let out a gasp of emotional air, slumping again. "I was messed up, but she made everything a hundred times worse."
I wanted to know who Isaiah was and what he had to do with Faye getting outed, but Faye was so fragile at the moment, I didn't want to pry. She'd tell me what she wanted me to know.
Sensing Faye wanted to sit down, I gently led her to the edge of the bed and sat down, tuning my body and ear to her.
"Isaiah was my best friend in college," Faye said. "We still talk sometimes. I panicked and slept with him after Andrea and I hooked up the first time. When Andrea found out a few months into our relationship, she went ape shit and told everyone I was a dyke, including my parents."
I felt myself crumple inside, heartbroken for the way Faye had been treated by the first girl she cared about or maybe even loved. I wanted to make up for all the awful things people had done to her for liking who she liked.
Cautiously, I took her hand between both of mine. Her arm hung limp in my grasp as I squeezed her fingers between mine.
"Faye, I would never out you. Even if you slept with a hundred guys right now," I murmured.
"Gross," Faye muttered, trying to lighten the mood. But it didn't need to be lightened. We needed to be right where we were.
"I'm sorry about your parents," I said.
Faye raised her eyebrows as her blank stare continued boring into the floor as she nodded.
"Not much I can do. Unless I want them to pull the plug on all this," she said, gesturing to our cluttered surroundings. Then she looked at me with an earnest, scared expression, and I knew that I was included in the all this she had gestured to. If her parents stopped paying her tuition and her rent, she would have to go home, which meant saying goodbye to me.
And I hoped, in the deep, selfish part of me, that losing me was the thing she was most afraid of.
I squeezed her hand again, trying to comfort her. But it's hard to comfort someone when there are things you can't say.
You won't lose me.
Don't let your parents tell you this is wrong.
I love you.
So I offered the next best thing. I lifted my hand and cupped her cheek.
"I would never do anything to hurt you on purpose. Please believe that. If you can't do relationships, then… we'll figure something out."
Faye let out a relieved gust of air, as though she'd been holding her breath since we started talking. "Really?" she said, looking pained and hopeful.
Uncertain but committed to making her comfortable, I nodded. "Labels aren't important. What matters is that you're special to me."
Faye leaned forward and put her head against my chest. She held me there for a long time, and I brushed her hair down her back, relieved we finally understood each other.
After a long time, Faye spoke. "Can we not sleep with other people?" she whispered, shy. She sounded as though she was unsure of how I'd respond.
I was so surprised at her request, I didn't answer right away. I had assumed we were monogamous, but realized maybe I shouldn't have assumed as much. I began to panic; had she been sleeping with other people for the last few months?
I must have been quiet for too long, because she tensed. "Only if you want. I don't want to sleep with other girls," she mumbled. "Or boys of course.”
"Um… I haven't been sleeping with other people," I said.
"Me neither."
Relieved, I squeezed her tight to me and whispered, "Yeah. We can just sleep with each other." My smile spread down my neck through my chest to my toes.
She squeezed me back and I felt her smile.
I held her tight for a long time, and she didn't tense and extract herself from my arms for almost an hour.
We had made our monogamy a spoken thing. She had a hard time with spoken things. I loved that she was speaking to me.
I wished that she'd agreed to be my girlfriend or something that other people could understand. But knowing why she was so scared and hesitant, and knowing how beautiful and bruised her heart was, I couldn't bring myself to ask for more than what she was offering. She was slowly peeling back for me. And because she was so beautiful and so scared, I discovered I had all the patience in the world for her.
On the Friday after Faye and I agreed to keep dating, being as open and honest with each other as we could, Faye texted me a picture of a dozen pink roses with the message: "In lieu of real flowers — hope you have a great day. I can't wait to see you tonight. XOXO" I smiled, loving her sweet alternative to sending me flowers at work. I texted back a quick message of thanks with a smiley face, assuring her I was looking for
ward to our date too. She was taking me to dinner and then we were going to film night in Dolores Park. It sounded like a perfect July evening.
I picked up my purse to go out and grab lunch in the middle of my workday. I usually treated myself to a sandwich and smoothie on Fridays, while the rest of the week I brought lunch from home and ate quietly in my office while reading a book.
I generally avoided walking by Turner's office unless I had to, but several times a day, I had to. I rarely looked in, and it was even more rare that he looked up to see who was passing by. But on that day, the two rare events collided, and I was caught in a conversation I didn't want to have.
"Montgomery!" he called after me as I made a beeline for the door.
Cringing, I turned back and put on a polite smile for my boss. "Yes?"
"Come sit down for a minute," he said, flipping a page over on the document he was reading and adjusting himself in his swiveling chair.
Annoyed that he was cutting into my lunch break, I took a breath and let out an inaudible sigh. I adjusted my skirt and sat down, not getting too comfortable.
"I don't know if I've taken the time to tell you that we appreciate your work here," he said, getting up and walking toward me, slow and intent like an animal stalking his prey. He towered over me and I regretted sitting down. Thankfully, he turned and took a seat in the chair adjacent to mine. "I've been mulling something over for a few days, and I wanted to get your input on it."
"Okay," I said, confused as to why he had chosen today to decide a woman's opinion mattered.
"We've been selected to be the recipients of a very prestigious grant. The Fordling Company; you've heard of them?"
Bluffing, I gave a subtle nod.
"Then you know how much emphasis they put into their diversity programs and ensuring all their projects have representative research teams."
Biting the inside of my lip, I raised my eyebrows in a neutral acknowledgement that Dr. Turner was boring me with his preamble.
"We're using the money they've allotted us to begin a two-year study of neurological stress in commuters. We're going to be looking at all variables of course, gender being one of them. We're hoping to start screening people in the coming months. The boys and I were shooting some ideas around, and we thought that maybe you'd like to be involved."
"In the study?" I asked. As soon as I said it, I felt stupid. Obviously I would be involved in the study. I worked at Turner Research. Turner Research was conducting the study.
Dr. Turner gave a belittling chuckle. "We were hoping you'd consider being a full author and take charge of screening potential participants. A friendly face people can associate with the project."
Surprised, I cleared my throat. "What would that entail?"
"A raise of thirty-thousand dollars a year and subsequent increase in your 401k matching plus an additional week's vacation. Maybe an assistant. Intern, at least."
The way he said it was so blunt and serious, I was stunned. I had been asking about the work, not the benefits.
But he was offering to almost double my salary and increase my benefits. I had never been more surprised by him.
Worried he was offering me a trojan horse, I started asking questions. "When would it start?"
"Few months," he said, giving a casual shrug.
"And who would I be working with?"
"Mostly myself and Novack. Harper is in too, but he's in charge of data review."
I swallowed. Did I want to work closer with Turner in exchange for more money?
"It'll look great on your résumé," Dr. Turner offered, smiling to entice me. "Not that we want you to be looking elsewhere," he said with a grin that was trying to be coy but fell short because he was so slimy.
He was offering me a real scientist job. He was offering me money and a title and my name as a full co-author of a study that would be printed in neuroscience journals and studied by students like I had been only eighteen months before. I wouldn't be crunching numbers in a stuffy little office anymore.
He must have sensed that I was hesitant, because he leaned back and said, "We can make you a formal offer if you'd be more comfortable with that."
Tucking my hands under my legs, I leaned forward and nodded. "I would," I said. "But it does sound like a great offer."
He gave a sudden clap, then rubbed his hands together. "Fabulous," he said, a bit too loud. "I'll draft it today and have it on your desk before you leave. And take an extra thirty for lunch if you like. Think it over." He rose and went back to his desk, sinking into his swiveling chair. "Good chat, Montgomery."
Nodding blankly as I rose, I echoed, "Good chat," and walked out of the office.
I wasn't sure why I didn't feel anything about being offered such a big promotion. Maybe it hadn't sunk in yet. Maybe telling someone would make it feel real. I decided to call Kimi and tell her. She had a great career she'd worked hard for, and last time we'd talked, she'd given me good advice. So I pulled out my phone and called her.
Given the time difference and the fact that she usually didn't answer her phone while she was at work, I was surprised when she answered, but also relieved.
"If it isn't my favorite bridesmaid," she said with a smile. "How are you?"
"Good," I said, trying to sound happy and excited. "Getting excited for the wedding?"
"I already have a planning binder," she said, giggling. That giggle made me adore my big sister more. She wasn't a giggly person, she was just happy to be marrying John.
"I'm surprised you haven't sent me a copy yet," I teased.
"Oh I will," she joked back. "What's up?"
"I have news," I said, knowing she'd be proud of me for being offered a promotion.
"Oh?"
"I was just heading out for lunch and my boss stopped me. He told me about a new project the company is taking on and asked me to be a full co-author of the study."
"Riley, that's amazing!" Kimi crowed. "I'm so proud of you!"
Her excitement only served to highlight my own lack of enthusiasm.
"Yeah," I said, noticing how dull my voice sounded.
There was a pause.
"You don't sound excited about it," Kimi said. I could almost hear the crease in her forehead as she frowned.
"I am," I said. But knowing Kimi didn't believe me, I decided I could tell her a little of what was bothering me. I couldn't outright say I hated my job, because Kimi wouldn't understand. So I said, "It's just not a perfect place to work. There are a lot of things I would change if I could."
Kimi hummed in understanding. "It's not easy, being a successful woman. All achievement comes with some sacrifice. Keep your eye on the prize, you know?"
Kimi had a point. Women often had to make sacrifices men didn't to make it in the workplace. It sucked, but it was a reality I couldn't change. "You're right," I said.
"Does the job come with a raise?" Kimi asked.
"Yeah, a big one," I said. "And an extra week's vacation and increased 401k matching."
"Good! You deserve it."
Feeling built up by Kimi's enthusiasm, I found myself smiling into the phone. I'd made my big sister proud, and that felt good. "Thanks," I said.
"How are you going to celebrate?" Kimi asked with a sense of urgency. "Women especially need to celebrate advances in their careers."
"I don't know. I have a date tonight, so I guess that will be my celebration."
"With Faye?" Kimi asked.
"Yeah," I said. "We talked to her and everything is good."
"Are you excited to be dating her?" Kimi asked.
I felt a smile spread through my whole chest at that. "I am," I said, feeling the truth of the words ground me. "She's a keeper."
"I'm so happy to hear that," Kimi cooed. "Are you bringing her to the wedding?"
I stumbled at that. I hadn't thought about who I would bring to my sister's wedding. That was far away. "I mean, it’s a year away, right?" I asked, buying myself time.
"Yeah," Kimi sa
id. "I guess you haven't been dating her long enough to know."
I thought about what could happen over the course of the year I'd be helping Kimi plan her wedding. What would change? What would stay the same? Would I still be living with Justine? Still dating Faye? Still working for Turner?
As I thought about where I could be in a year, I realized that the idea of taking Faye to my sister's wedding was less scary than the possibility of still working for Turner.
"Anyway, congratulations," Kimi said, smile returning to her voice. "I've gotta go, but have fun with Faye tonight! Let me know how it goes."
Uplifted by the reminder that I'd be seeing Faye in just a few hours, I smiled. "I will. Love you!"
"Love you too."
Hanging up after receiving more praise and recognition than I ever had from my big sister, I should have felt overjoyed. But I felt no different. It was Friday afternoon and I was going to get my normal sandwich.
The only thing that wasn't normal was my date that night with Faye.
Faye and I met in the same coffee shop where she'd first interviewed me. I wondered if it was her way of having a fresh start after the debacle of our last encounter. I was a bundle of nerves waiting for, wondering why she'd called me after two months of silence and why she wanted to meet in person. It was unnerving to have so little control.
When I saw her walk in, she looked different. Still just as beautiful, but her feet didn't second-guess their steps and she didn't duck her head. There was still some skittishness in her eyes, like a loud noise could make her jump out of her skin, but there was a bravery shining through that looked good on her. Maybe getting engaged had given her a sense of security that gave her confidence.
The first thing I did was look at her hands. Was there a ring there? I spotted something silver, but I couldn't tell if it was an engagement ring. Which was her left hand and which her right? Before I could sort it out, she was too close, and I had to greet her.
I stood up from where I was sitting at the rickety table and smiled as she approached. I stepped toward her, not sure if a hug would be welcome. She seemed unsure, but we ended up hugging, giving each other a few awkward pats on the back. I was glad to see her again, glad to feel the way she strained up on her heels to perch her head on my shoulder, glad to know she wasn't completely done with me.
Wherever the Dandelion Falls Page 36
