“So, has there been any progress with your mom?”
“I guess a bit, kinda like the progress we made in our military. Don’t ask, don’t tell. She told me that she loved me and that would never change. But she didn’t want to hear any more about that woman. Then she had the audacity to ask me if I could change; maybe we could pray together to ask for God’s help! I tried to remain calm when she said that, but the entire visit was surreal. I have never prayed with my mother, let alone talked to God about my sexuality!”
I can see a twisted smile cross Angela’s face. “It shouldn’t be funny, but in a way, it is. Some people are still so ignorant. They think they can change their loved ones with prayer or a magic wand.”
As Angela and I continue talking, she asks me more about Jessica, and immediately senses my turmoil. I tell her about Jess’s desire to have children, and how I just really don’t want to be a parent. I explain my theories on children, trying to be careful so as not to offend, because I know Angela has an adult child with her high school boyfriend. I remember our first conversation when she told me about her own “coming out” experience. Angela said she was certain she was always gay but did remember having crushes on boys and even loved her son’s father very much—but in a very different way than she has loved women. She likened it to a familial, platonic love. She told me that she could never see herself with a man again, but as a teenager, her raging emotions were directed to the male population as well. Over the last few years, I have come to the conclusion that sexuality doesn’t have to be monolithic; in fact, I am starting to believe that for many people it is fluid. It’s society that makes us choose. In Kinsey’s world, you don’t have to choose.
“So how did you and Jessica weather that storm?”
“Angela, the irony of the entire situation with my mother is that while I was simultaneously trying to defend my relationship, I knew in my heart that Jessica and I are not going to make it. Even though we did get closer than ever during those months, I know Jessica and I are not meant for the long haul.” After I say this, guilt seizes me. I feel awful, so, so awful. I have contemplated ending it with Jessica, but never allowed my thoughts to enter the world with real words spoken outside of my head. And here I am with Angela, an ex-student, an acquaintance, telling her something that I haven’t even told the woman I love: that it’s almost over. But there is something about this woman’s powerful stare and consoling eyes that have once more gotten me to open up my soul and lay my heart on the table. I needed to talk to someone, to make it real. I know this feeling, and I can’t put it off any longer.
Angela and I talk for hours, just like we did three years ago, not engaging in the light lunch banter I had imagined; profound conversations are eating up the minutes of time. When I glance at my watch, I realize that I have to rush to make it to class on time; thus, it’s time to bid adieu to this amazing woman. As I give her a long, warm hug and wish her well, sadness overwhelms me. I am really going to miss her. Strange how people can come into one’s life, even for brief moments, and change how one sees the world.
I get into my tiny Miata and am instantly suffocated. It feels too small; my books are everywhere, my school bag strewn open with papers and files falling from it, an extra jacket on the seat. I decide at that moment that I am done with this car. I want a normal-sized car, no SUV, but no two-seater either, a sensible car that will give me good gas mileage and afford me more space. I imagine telling Jessica that I want to sell my Miata; her reaction, I am sure, will be positive. She has been talking a lot about how we need a sedan for “the baby.” I picture Jessica with a small round belly, and a sorrowful smile covers my face. Every moment I spend with her teaches me something about myself. It is one of the healthiest, happiest relationships I have ever been in, and yet, there’s a pink elephant in the room with us every moment of every day.
Suddenly, I get another image of Jessica with two screaming—but gorgeous—toddlers at her feet. Something is tugging me, not kids at my feet; it is a tugging in the pit of my stomach. Then I feel something else. There is Zeus again poking me in the butt with his damn lightening sword!
24
Encinitas, California
Early June, 2005
Rick and I are lying on our backs in the sun, two towels on the hot cement with our legs bent at the knee, feet dangling in the cool water. The pool at the condo is quiet with kids still in school for another week or so, and the sun beating down on my face feels marvelous. Rick rolls over on his stomach, sits up on his elbows to get a better look at me.
Suddenly he’s serious: “Thair, you are no longer a young pup. Almost everyone our age is married, some married a few times! Even though it’s not legal for some of us,” he adds with a “Humph.” Then continues: “And most have a handful of kids. You need to start dating again!”
“No, I don’t.” I say this with an air of confidence. Ever since that “coming out” with my class, everything started to change for me again. I am no longer living in that metaphorical closet, no longer willing to live someone else’s dreams, my mother’s, not even Jess’s. I needed to be true to myself.
Yes, I would love to fall in love again. I would love to meet my other half if s/he exists, but if I don’t ever meet him or her, it’s okay. For the first time, ironically enough, I kind of understand my mom. I have my own life, and I am fine. I am better than fine. I am happy. Settled. I write, teach, take long walks on the beach, and when I am home … I am home. I can do whatever I want, whenever I want. Yes, there are moments of loneliness, times when it would be nice to have a partner, but my life is good. In four years I will be forty, but I am no longer dreading the BIG 4-0; in fact, I am excited. With age, I become wiser, kinder, and more compassionate. Since my separation from Jessica last year, I have taken up yoga and love it. I hike more, read more for pleasure, surround myself with positive people, and I am just genuinely content. And the strangest part of it is I have found happiness alone. What a novel idea: to be happy with only oneself as company! I am finally—after thirty-six long years—at peace. And damn, it feels good!
As Rick and I lay there soaking up the sun, I think to myself: I am living. Really living, gosh Angela would be proud of me.
“Want another one of my delicious drinks?”
“No, thanks. I’m already feeling a bit tipsy. Hey … Thair …?”
“Yes?”
“Are you sure you want to go away for the whole summer? Frank and I will really miss you!”
“Oh, come on, you two will be just fine.” Times have been tough for the two of them, and Rick and I are seeing each other more than usual. “I told you that you two are welcome to come anytime and stay in my place.”
“Yeah, I know, but remember what happened last time? Your little, old conservative neighbors weren’t too happy and complained to your HOA.”
A small, layered giggle: “Maybe. But do you think I care? Seriously, if you two want to stay, I’ll write to management ahead of time and inform them that you are taking care of my place. Then you can come whenever you want and take advantage of the pool and spa. Anyway, it will be good for the two of you to have somewhere to get away again, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, Frank is still so down, and a getaway may be just what he needs. But … I would prefer to go with you to Greece! Ah, Mykonos …” He is lost in thought, probably reliving the week he spent there with Frank in the late ’90s, a gay man’s paradise.
“You know, you are both certainly welcome to join me. I’m sure the real estate business won’t fall apart any worse if you were to leave for a few weeks.”
I see Rick’s eyes flicker, but he and I both know he is not going anywhere. Since the death of Frank’s mother, at the young age of fifty-seven, Frank has been really depressed. It’s been frustrating for Rick because Frank has completely shut down. I just keep telling Rick, give him time, sweetie. He is going through something really tough, and I guarantee you that he is not intentionally trying to push you away.
> Over the last year, since his mother’s passing, Frank has become so different, so closed. I guess that’s the difference between friends and partners. I don’t live with Frank and can give him the occasional upbeat visit as he goes through this, but Rick suffers along and continues to be supportive. He comes home and finds Frank lying on Tinky Winky in the exact same spot he was when Rick left for work. Rick also told me Frank goes for days without showering, zones out in front of the TV, and is non-communicative. I knew Frank was a “momma’s boy,” but after a year, I am starting to wonder if he needs more help than Rick can give him. I know Frank and Rick have that connection that only comes along once in a lifetime (and never for others, I am starting to think), so I hope they will make it. They have to make it. I am still a hopeless romantic, and these two are (were?) my role models.
It’s been thirteen months since Jessica and I have broken up, and I still think about her daily. I see her every week at the college, but my nights at The Burn have come to a close. Gay clubs, straight clubs, it doesn’t matter. I don’t like the bar scene at all, just not my thing. I prefer to stay at home or go out for a quiet dinner with friends. I do miss Jessica, and every time I see her, there is a shot of pain, but I’m okay.
As always, Rick is so intuitive, always seems to know what I’m thinking, “So tell me, how has it been seeing Jessica at the college this semester?”
“I can tell you, honestly, it hasn’t been easy. I still find myself hugely attracted to her even with her five-month belly. In fact, she just glows, just like they say about pregnant women. It really is true. She looks more amazing than ever. She just glows.” I can’t help repeating myself.
I am silent for a few minutes, processing, remembering, then I have this burning need to share with Rick something that I haven’t told anyone. Without further thought, I begin talking, “I don’t know if I ever told you, but after Jess started dating Tawny again, I did something really inappropriate. I went to her place one night, like a young foolish girl, and rang her bell. I knew she was alone because Tawny always works at The Burn on Fridays. Anyway, she was shocked to see me at her door … but also delighted. We hadn’t spoken for months, not since the breakup, and I just had to see her. She offered me a cup of coffee, and we started talking about everything, everything except us. About school, classes, students we loved, others we didn’t; we argued about that new website called Facebook, Jessica saying she already had an account, and me being so skeptical. She called me a Luddite, said I needed to move into the twenty-first century, and I argued that I preferred the ’80s when technology didn’t consume so much of our lives. We bantered happily back and forth about a variety of topics, and the feistier our conversation got, the more turned on I was. After my second cup of coffee, I had to go to the restroom, and when I came out, she wasn’t in the living room. Instinctively, I went to her bedroom, and she was lying naked on her bed. It was one of the most breath-taking sights. Her long limbs, flat stomach, shapely arms, strong jaw, and that fantastic smile.”
I look over and Rick is sitting straight up. I don’t stop because in my mind’s eye, I am already there in bed with her again.
“So, I made my way over the bed, turned around, bent over, took off my jeans, then my shirt. I lay down beside her with just my bra and panties; she got on top of me, straddled me. Then she took my face and kissed me passionately. I remember lying flat as she worked her way down, kissing my neck, then my belly button. When she reached—”
Suddenly, I am embarrassed, wetness between my legs, my heart racing. I have never been so explicit with Rick before. Having already crossed the invisible boundary set by friends, I try to make a joke, using the classic weak line utilized by soap operas and my students when they need to end their stories because they don’t know where to go next: “And then I woke up and it was all a dream!” Of course, it wasn’t, but Rick laughs and lightens the mood.
Before he can comment, I add, “Now let’s get in the pool! I need to cool off!”
“Yes! Good idea, Ms. Thair!” Rick seems relieved.
We both jump in the chilly water as it instantly calms my hormones. I swim a few laps to warm up, and then make my way over to Rick, who is leaning against the wall, with water up to his waist.
“So, Thair, do you regret breaking up with her?”
“I do miss the times we shared, but it just wasn’t right. She wanted a baby so badly, and you know me, God just didn’t give me the baby gene. I couldn’t take on the most important job in the world if I didn’t believe in it heart and soul. I can admit that I was irritated to find out that she went back to Tawny right away, especially after all the conversations we had, all the times she told me that they were just friends. Now, though, it does make sense. Even though Tawny is about fifteen years younger, I know how much she adores Jessica. And I believe it runs much deeper than the ex-student-teacher attraction. I guess maybe I saw it all along, just didn’t want to admit it.”
“But does Jessica really love her?” Rick blurted.
“I don’t know.” I am looking down, staring at my feet that look distorted under the water. “I really don’t know. Do we ever find that special person that loves us as much as we love him or her?” I say this while thinking Rick and Frank have found that sort of love but, based on what’s been happening lately between the two of them, I can’t help but wonder if Rick feels like he loves Frank more than Frank loves him right now.
Out loud, I bring it back to Jess and Tawny. “I guess I’m just trying not to judge their relationship, and I do sincerely hope that they are both happy. Tawny adores kids. I told you she has a three-year-old girl, right?”
“Yeah, you did.”
“Anyway, Jess’s kid will have an older sister, so I really hope it works out. Jessica is an exceptional woman.”
“And what about that night? I assume Tawny never found out.”
“Actually, Jess told Tawny the next day. Can you believe that? She also promised her that it was the last time she would ever be with me or another woman for that matter. A sort of final farewell to being single. Of course, Tawny was initially upset, but Jess ended up asking her to get married, to find a place where it’s legal and make it official. Tawny was in heaven because Jess is always true to her word. I think being with me one more time solidified this for her, that she wanted to move on, close the chapter that was us. She made a choice. Above everything, career … me … she wanted to be a mother. She says that if she and Tawny are to share children, then she wants Tawny to be her wife. So now Jess is totally committed to Tawny, and we are simply colleagues again. End of Love Story #3 for Thair.”
“Oh, sweet Thair … ”
“It’s okay. Really. It would have been nice to remain friends, but she made it clear that I am not welcome in her home or in her life. She said it would be too difficult for her.”
“So, Thair … do you think Jessica could have been The One?”
I start moving the water around me, fingertips lightly touching the surface. It’s not that I’m avoiding the question, it’s just that for a moment, I don’t know how to answer.
“Thair, you don’t have to respond. It’s a stupid question anyway.”
“No, it’s not a stupid question. I have actually been thinking about this a lot, and I guess the answer is ‘no.’ I figure if she were The One, I would still be with her, right? I think we had all the makings for a great long-term relationship, but we didn’t fit together completely.” As I say this, I grab Rick’s hands. “Let me show you something. Take your hands and interlace your fingers.” Rick does as I ask him, always a good sport. “Good. Now see how that feels. Feels good? Feels right? Now take your two index fingers and switch them. How does that feel?”
“Awkward.”
“Good.”
“Not good, Thair, I said awkward.” I smile. Rick always plays along with me.
“Okay, see how it feels awkward, strange? Well that’s me, and how I am in relationships. One minuscule thing is off kilter, a
nd the whole thing feels damn uncomfortable. Simply not right.”
We are still standing in the pool, the water keeping us cool from the waist down. The sun is burning my back, but it feels nice.
“I just don’t think a person can want something so different from the other and expect to have a healthy, good relationship. With Jessica, yes, there was understanding, communication, and let’s not forget the incredible sex,” I say with a laugh, “but some fundamental goals did not match up. I think that’s one problem with people today in regard to romance; we are fed all this bullshit that if you meet The One, any obstacle can be overcome. I just think that if I ever meet my other half, of course, if there is such a thing, there won’t be any real obstacles. Or if there are, they will be minor issues not fundamental differences; in fact, I imagine I won’t even see them as obstacles because the fit will be right. I assume there will be compromises to be made because nothing is perfect, but there won’t be fundamental differences in what we want from each other, from life.”
“So, my friend, you have everything figured out.”
“Nah!” I say as I splash him. “I don’t have anything figured out! Just me and my crazy philosophies!”
“Thair, I’m happy for you.”
“Why?” I say with a smile.
“You seem happy, genuinely happy. I don’t think I have ever seen you … this light. It’s almost strange, no hot mama or sexy man in your life and, yet, you seem so radiant. And I’m happy just to be around you.”
“That’s so sweet,” I reply.
Suddenly, Rick’s face seems strained and sad. He probably wishes that Frank could have been with us, enjoying the pool, the sun, and the conversation. Then, changing the much-too-serious conversation to one more playful, I state, “Of course I am light and radiant! In three glorious days, I will by lying on a sandy beach in the Mediterranean! Are you sure you don’t want to come with me?”
The Greek Persuasion Page 19
