"How've you been?" she asked, her anxiety seeping into the furniture around us.
"I've been okay," I lied. "A little sluggish, but I'm alive. How are you?" I asked, eager to take myself out of the spotlight. I glanced at her hands once again and was relieved to see that neither hand had a ring on its ring finger. My stomach unclenched.
"Good," she said, brow creasing as she studied the grain of the table, as though she had to think about how she was for a moment, but the outcome was decidedly positive. "All things considered... I'd say I'm better than I ever imagined."
My heart sank, and I remembered she'd said yes to the proposal. My eyes flitted to her hand again, double-checking to make sure I'd seen correctly and she wasn't wearing a ring. She still wasn't, but maybe it was being resized.
Faye took a deep breath. "I made some substantial changes to my life," she said.
"Oh?" I asked, growing curious.
Faye nodded, biting her lip. "Isaiah and I broke up," she said, as though she knew I was desperate to hear. "He was pretty upset, but you were right. He saw it coming."
Even though I felt something flare up in my chest, I gave a brief pout of sympathy. "I'm sorry. That must have been hard."
She gave a little shrug. "He was my best friend, but..." She paused, sentence hanging in midair. "I wasn't in love with him."
Something released in my torso, and I realized I'd been clenching my stomach since she walked in. I didn't want to smile too bright or express happiness for Isaiah's loss.
"I could never be in love with him because…" She paused, lowering her voice to a whisper. "Because I'm pretty sure I'm gay."
I was stunned that she had said it out loud. My mind flashed back to our first meeting, how unsteady and unprepared she'd been for even the smallest unexpected thing, how deeply she relied on things familiar. And here she was, telling me she liked girls. Clearly I'd underestimated the courage she possessed. My jaw would have been on the floor if my smile hadn't been holding it up.
"You probably knew that already," Faye said, giving an embarrassed smile to the table. "But, you know... sometimes the hardest thing is admitting it to yourself."
I was too stunned to say anything out loud.
"So I ended things with Isaiah and told him why."
Now I was certain I'd fallen and hit my head and this was some sort of elaborate hallucination I was having.
"You did?"
"He deserved the truth," Faye said.
"And?"
Faye looked sadder, but she didn't crumple. "I mean, he took it as well as anyone getting rejected for a proposal could." There was a long pause and I saw something flicker across Faye's face. "He's taught me so much about being kind and patient and honest. I wish I could be in love with him, you know?"
I bit my lip and nodded. But I couldn't deny that I was overjoyed Faye was single.
Faye was single. She had just told me she liked girls and was single.
My mind was racing.
"Anyway, I'm working up to telling my parents."
Something seized in my stomach and I felt overwhelmingly protective and nervous for Faye. "How do you think they'll react?"
Faye looked nervous too. "I'm not sure. But since I got a job, they can't do anything. Oh yeah, I got a job," she said with a little giggle. "Like a salaried job with benefits and everything."
I was stunned. She had undergone a bigger transformation than I thought was possible in two months. She was more confident than I'd ever seen her.
"Faye, that's — that's amazing!" I said. "Congratulations!"
She beamed at me and I hoped she could feel just how proud I was of her.
"I'm a medical receptionist. For now. I looked at stuff in journalism, but nothing appealed to me. So I'm going to stick with this while I work on my book."
She took a sip of her drink, as though drawing out the joy that was resonating between us. When she set her cup down, she looked up at me, gaze steady and determined.
"I'm sorry I didn't call you the last few months. I didn't want to drag you into all my drama," she said.
I bit my lip, thinking back to how much I'd missed her during her radio silence. But knowing now what she'd been going through, I felt guilty. I wished I could have supported her through it.
"Did you have anyone to talk to about it?" I asked. "You just made like five major life changes at once. I'd be a nervous wreck."
Faye raised her eyebrows and let out a quick breath, acknowledging it hadn't been easy.
"Schro got a lot of attention," she said, tracing the rim of her cup with her finger. "He was the first person I came out to. Well, living creature. I forget he's not human sometimes."
"He does have a commanding presence," I said, smiling.
"Yeah," Faye said, nodding pensively. "I started going to a group for people who are in the process of coming out. It was kinda scary, but it did help. Made me feel less bad about not figuring it out for this long."
I imagined Faye in a circle of stiff metal chairs, shoulders and knees rigid as she watched everyone around her like a hawk, slowly softening as she listened to their stories and experiences. Part of me wanted to hug her and hold her hand through that experience, but I was extraordinarily proud of her for going alone.
"A lot of people don't figure it out for a long time," I said with a reassuring shrug. "I'm sure you weren't the oldest person there."
"Actually I was one of the youngest," she said. "The older people were nice to me. This one guy Michael invited me to hang out with him and his boyfriend Dave. They're super sweet."
I smiled, imagining Faye being adopted by a gay couple.
Faye traced the rim of her cup for a moment, seeming tense as she contemplated something I couldn't see.
There was something I was dying to ask, but I didn't know how to phrase it. I stumbled over my words as I said, "So, how did — how did you figure it out?"
Faye looked up at me as though it should be obvious.
I felt myself flush as I realized it had been that night in my apartment.
She fidgeted in her seat for a minute, playing with the edge of her paper napkin. I wasn't sure if I should say something about our kiss or change the subject.
Then she took a breath, keeping her eyes down as she said, "Do you — do you, um, want to have dinner sometime?"
Hesitant to assume she was asking me out, I paused. "Like… dinner dinner?"
Faye gave a sheepish nod.
"Like a date?" I asked, needing all the clarity she would give me.
She kept nodding, and I thought I saw the traces of a blush creeping into her cheeks and ears.
Something in my chest exploding with joy. It was a miracle I didn't jump out of my seat and scream YES for the whole city to hear.
I heard myself laughing as I covered my mouth, trying to contain myself. "Yes," I said, "Yes! I would love to go on a date with you."
Before I could stop myself, I stood.
"C'mere," I said, beckoning her to stand. I had to hug her right then. She stood, beaming, and raised her arms to me. I wrapped my arms around her waist and squeezed, pressing the side of my face to hers. I rocked side to side on my feet, feeling how warm and real she was against me.
After we sat down, her shoulders relaxed and she took another sip of her drink. "After being with the same person for five years, I'm pretty excited to date again," she said.
I couldn't stop grinning.
"Kind of scary though," she admitted, staring down at her drink.
"We'll go slow," I said, reaching across the table to take her hand. "You know me, and hopefully I'm not scary."
She looked up at me and scrunched her nose adorably. "Not at all," she said, squeezing my hand.
Chapter 18: Dinner Date
After we'd sat in warm silence for a long time holding each other, Faye and I ordered breakfast to be delivered and settled into our weekend routine. I felt closer to her than ever before, and from the shy glances she gave me as we tidied
up her apartment and sorted laundry to take downstairs, I knew she felt the same. Cleaning her room together felt very sweet and domestic. Since we weren't a couple in public, keeping our private space neat was a natural impulse.
As we sorted the piles on the floor into baskets of clean and dirty laundry, we realized that there was a lot of my clothing there. Almost enough to fill a basket. How had that happened? We didn't acknowledge it out loud. We just kept sorting and chatting, stepping around the pile that was mine.
"Do you work tonight?" she asked.
"No," I said, relieved. The prospect of going back to Jules' after what had happened with Tommy made my stomach twist. "I'm thinking about taking a little time off," I said, realizing it as I said it.
Faye paused from sorting through her laundry to look up at me. She gave me a pitying pout. "I'm sorry about what happened last night," she said. "I wouldn't have known what to do."
"You would," I said, putting a handful of socks from under her bed into her hamper. "When I busted my hand open, you had me in the emergency room before I realized I was hurt.”
Faye gave me a bashful smile. "It's different when it's someone you know."
"I was still impressed."
It was quiet for a moment as Faye folded a sweater and stood to walk to her dresser. As she pulled out a drawer, she paused, staring into it for a moment before she reached in and took out another sweater. Placing both in the drawer above it, she pointed to the empty one and mumbled, "You can keep stuff there if you want." She said it so quietly, I almost didn't hear.
Surprised by her gesture, I paused, glancing at the open drawer before smiling. "Thank you," I said quietly, looking at the pile of my own clothes we hadn't acknowledged. "This way I won't contribute to your mess."
Faye didn't make eye contact, but mumbled as she resumed folding her mountain of laundry. "My mess is all my own doing."
Unsure how to take her comment, I changed the subject. "I'm gonna call Dave and ask him to take my shift tomorrow."
"Good idea," Faye said.
I walked to the bedside table where my phone rested and dialed Dave's number.
"If it isn't my favorite bisexual in the world," Dave cooed as he answered. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
I smiled. "I was calling to ask if you could take my shift tomorrow. You know, since I took yours last night."
"I'd love to, but I'm already working tomorrow."
I felt silly for not checking the schedule. "Oh."
"How'd it go last night?" he asked.
Not wanting to recount every detail about Tommy and the paramedics over the phone, I just said, "It was pretty crazy. How was your dinner with Michael's parents?"
"It was wonderful," Dave said. "Michael says they loved me."
"I still haven't met him, by the way," I said, sounding disapproving. "You promised I'd get to vet him. Now you're in too deep for my opinion to matter."
"True," Dave said. I could hear him smiling. "What are you doing Wednesday?"
I glanced up at Faye, who had moved from folding laundry to clearing more out from under the bed. "I'm not sure," I said truthfully. Barring other plans, I'd be in bed with her, but I couldn't say that.
"Come have dinner with us," Dave said. "You'll love Michael. He's just..." Dave sighed. "I'm in love, Riley. I'm head over heels in love."
The way he said it was so sweet and simple and happily resigned, I felt my chest glow. "Aw, Dave… You sound so sappy."
"So sue me," he chuckled.
"Have you told him?" I asked.
"Told him what?"
"That you love him," I said, grinning at the image of big, burly Dave telling a guy he loved him.
"Yeah," Dave said, sounding bashful. "And he said it back."
At that I let out a noise that indicated how nauseatingly cute Dave sounded and how happy I was for him.
But at the same time, I couldn't help but remember that I'd said I love you to someone not even twelve hours ago, and she hadn't said it back.
"So will you come to dinner?" Dave asked.
"I'd love to," I said.
"Fantastic," Dave said. "Hey, how's that girl you were seeing?"
Nervous about discussing Faye while she was in the room, I said, "Good."
"Did you want to bring her?" Dave invited.
"Um… maybe another time."
I avoided looking at Faye in hopes she wouldn't know I was talking about her. The less other people knew about her being gay, the more relaxed she was. Given the emotional outpouring we'd just had, I didn't want to disturb the peacefulness that had set in.
"Soon, then," Dave said.
"Maybe.”
But as I said it, I knew it was unlikely that he'd get to meet her in a formal setting. I couldn't bring Faye around to introduce to my friends like Dave was suggesting. But that was one of the sacrifices I had to make to be with her. It was too late to change my mind. So I took a deep breath and told Dave to text me Michael's address for our dinner party.
When I arrived at Michael's house the following Wednesday, Dave opened the door and grinned at me.
"Hey, Riley," he said. "Welcome to Michael's house.”
I gave Dave a hug before being ushered into the kitchen. Michael was standing over the stove wearing an apron as he sautéed something that smelled like I would want to eat the whole pan myself. I was surprised to find he was about fifteen years older than Dave, with salt and pepper hair, clean-cut sideburns, and neatly starched khakis and a dress shirt.
We did the obligatory greetings and handshakes. As Dave introduced us, he never took his eyes off Michael, and Michael barely tore his gaze away from Dave.
The way they looked at each other made me think of Faye. She looked at me that way when we were in bed.
She looked at me like she loved me, didn't she?
It was a reassuring feeling. I could feel her love in another's gaze. She must love me if I could feel it even when we were apart. Right?
As we settled at a nice table with candles and what looked like the most amazing spinach strawberry salad I'd ever seen, Michael began chatting. "So what do you do, Riley?"
"I work with Dave," I said, embarrassed when I realized my mouth was full of food.
"Ah," Michael said, smiling as he placed his hand on Dave's knee. "Do you like it?"
I shrugged and swallowed my bite. "It's okay." Then, feeling a dreadful lull in conversation due to my short response I said, "I'm thinking of taking a little break. I had a bad shift the other night. A guy passed out in the bathroom and the paramedics had to come."
Dave gave me a pitying look. "Tommy?" he asked.
Surprised that Dave knew, I tilted my head and said, "Yeah."
Dave sighed. "I heard about that." He turned to Michael and said, "Marcus said Tommy fell off the wagon again and landed in the ER.”
Michael shook his head as he bent over his salad.
"I'm thinking of finding something else, actually, but I don't know what," I said.
"What did you study in college?" Michael asked.
"Neuroscience," I grumbled, trying to convey how I felt about science with my tone.
"That's also what she got her Master's in," Dave said, bragging for me.
"Really," Michael said, as though neuroscience was something he was interested in.
I shrugged. "It's not my thing anymore."
Michael squinted and gave a faint nod. "What is your thing?"
"I don't know. I like working at Jules', but pumping people full of alcohol is weighing on my conscience lately. I'd love to still work with the gay community, since I'm pretty detached from it since Fay-"
I stopped myself because I wasn't supposed to talk about her, especially to people who would be curious and ask questions.
“I'd just love to work in a different setting,” I said.
I saw Michael and Dave exchanging a knowing look about something.
Then Dave turned to me. "Did I mention that Michael owns a café on Church Stre
et?"
I shook my head, unsure why this was relevant now.
"And did I mention that this café specializes in social events for the queer community that don't involve large quantities of alcohol?"
I kept shaking my head. Then Dave looked back at Michael and Michael gave him a subtle nod. "And did you know Michael is looking to hire a new manager that can help plan and run events?"
Now realizing where he was going with this, I sat up. "Really?"
Michael gave me a smiling nod. "I'm looking to expand our events programming. We've got a nice little rotation of open mic nights, but they tend to be the same group of couples. I'd love to get some new blood in the business. Especially women."
Feeling like this was too good to be true, I looked back and forth between Dave and Michael. "That sounds amazing."
Michael gave me a friendly nod and said, "I'd hire Dave here, but he refused, saying he's no good with details and doesn't want to jinx our relationship. So why don't you draft a plan, like a calendar of monthly events with a projected expense sheet and outreach plan, and I'll see if it's something that could work."
"Really?" I asked, incredulous at being asked to apply for a job I thought existed only in my head.
Michael smiled, happy to see me so excited. "This could be a good thing." He turned to Dave. "Sweetie, can I trust her?"
"With your darkest secret," Dave said with a grin.
And while I was thrilled with the possibility of not having to go on a job hunt, Dave's comment only reminded me of the secrets I was keeping for Faye. I wanted her to be at that table, hand on my knee just like Dave's was on Michael's, squeezing in promises and feelings that words couldn't capture.
I put in my earrings and took a look at myself in the mirror. I've always looked young for my age, but as I looked at myself, all done up for my fancy date in my adult relationship with adult problems, I felt more sophisticated than I could ever remember feeling. I felt like I fit into Faye's glamorous world.
Wherever the Dandelion Falls Page 37
