by Amy DeMeritt
“How are you feeling?”
“Like an idiot.”
“Why?”
Mel shrugged and fell back to rest her head on the back of the couch. As Layla sat down on the couch next to her, Alice handed her a glass of water. Mel allowed her to lift her head and help her drink, but after the glass was empty, she laid down behind Layla across the length of the couch.
Layla stood up nodding towards the front door, so Alice followed her. Quietly, she said, “Thanks for helping.”
“No problem. Let me know if you need anything else.”
After a quick hug, Alice left and Layla returned to the couch to sit on the edge in front of Mel. She brushed the messed hair off of her forehead and Mel startled and briefly looked wide-eyed at Layla before relaxing again.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
“Do you want to watch a movie with me?”
“Sure.”
Layla grabbed the remote and settled back against Mel’s flat stomach and rested her right arm on her side and her left on her hip. Mel playfully nudged her with her thigh, like she was going to buck her off of the couch.
“Horror, action, or comedy?”
“Action. Something like a bank heist or an end of the world scenario.”
After a few minutes of scrolling through their to-watch list of movies that they had saved to watch together, Layla found a movie about a climate-change driven apocalypse. They watched the movie in silence for ten minutes, then Mel nudged her with her thigh again.
“I need to pee.”
Layla paused the movie, then helped Mel stand up from the couch. She swayed some with each step, but Mel was noticeably steadier than when they first got home. After escorting her to the toilet, Layla turned around to give Mel privacy and waited for her to empty her bladder.
“They passed me up for the promotion.”
Layla spun around, and snapped, “What? Why? Who got it instead?”
Mel zipped her pants and flushed the toilet, then walked past her to the sink to wash her hands. “An outsider. They hired a woman with actual manager experience. She starts in two weeks and I’ll have to train her on the company systems and the processes our team manages.”
“Mel, I’m so sorry. I thought for sure you had it in the bag and…”
“Yeah, me too.”
She flicked the excess water off of her fingers and Layla gave her the hand-towel to dry off.
While she grabbed Mel’s hips, Layla said, “Hey, come here,” and turned Mel so she could give her a hug. Mel released a deep growling exhale as she returned her embrace and laid her head on Layla’s shoulder.
“I bought you a Bing-cherry pie and some vanilla ice cream.”
With a scoffing laugh, Mel said, “Fuck.” She lifted her head off of Layla’s shoulder and ran a hand over her face. With a sheepish little pout, she added, “That was pretty great of you. Thanks. I’m sorry I got shitfaced and you had to come carry my ass out of that piece of shit bar.”
“I understand why you had the extra drinks, but why the hell did you go to that bar?”
“I didn’t plan on going to another bar. I was just driving around, trying to figure out what the hell I had done wrong or why I wasn’t good enough and how I was going to tell people. After driving aimlessly for like an hour, I saw that sign with the giant beer mug and I just pulled into the lot.”
“That was dangerous, Mel. That bar looked like the kind of place girls like us don’t come out of the same way we went in.”
Mel didn’t need her to explain to know she meant because they were lesbians. And Layla was right. The place was filled with very conservative older lower to middleclass patrons and every single one of them had given her a hard look over when she walked in and sat at the bar. The bartender didn’t say a single word to her when she ordered. He just set the beers down in front of her and took her money.
“I won’t ever go there again. Come on, I want to change.”
They walked to Mel’s bedroom and Layla sat on the foot of her bed while Mel changed out of her work clothes and into pajama shorts and a tee shirt. Without a word, they walked to the kitchen and worked together to cut the pie and scoop ice cream.
“You get this from Minnie’s?”
“Of course.”
Mel gave Layla a kiss on the cheek. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. I’m sorry it turned out to be sympathy pie instead of celebratory pie. I’ve been excited for you all day. I couldn’t wait for you to get home so we could… Anyway, I’m probably making it worse. I’m sorry. You really deserve that promotion. There’s no way they found some outsider to do that job better than you can.”
“You don’t know that. You’ve never worked under me. I might be shit and just think I’m…”
“You are not shit. You wouldn’t be a supervisor at one of the world’s biggest online retailers if you were. And my life would be a total disaster if it wasn’t for you.”
“Mine would probably be worse.” Mel picked up their bowls while Layla grabbed two glasses of water to bring out to the couch. As they sat down pressed hip to hip, Mel added, “I’m really sorry about tonight. It was a childish and selfish reaction to get wasted like that.”
“It was, but I forgive you. Are you good now or do I have to worry about you doing this again?”
“I’m good. I’ll probably be in a horrible mood when I have to start training the bitch that got my job. But I won’t get wasted again.”
“I can handle you being grumpy. But I don’t want to see you in that dark place again.”
Mel gave her a sheepish smile, understanding the reference to the brief drinking problem she had when Justine broke her heart.
“I’m pissed, but I won’t let it tear me down like that. Tonight, was just a… I don’t know, I guess a miscalculation of consumption. Anyway, how was your day?”
“I spent the day placating angry customers and troubleshooting user-error issues.”
“So, same old same old.”
“Exactly. How was your happy hour with your team? Do they know about the new manager?”
Mel moaned around a spoonful of cherry pie and ice cream. After she swallowed, she responded, “Yes. The department director held an impromptu meeting after I was told so he could tell the rest of the team. It was awkward and embarrassing. All of them looked confused and kept looking between each other and at me. It made me feel like shit, but I tried to appear unaffected and positive about it. I guess that’s another reason I snapped and ended up getting drunk. I had to wear a fucking happy face mask all damn day and night. It was exhausting and made my blood boil even more.”
“Did the director at least tell you why they decided to go another way?”
She scoffed and ate a few bites of pie before responding. “He said I’m great at my job and I really stepped up to fill the vacuum when George left. He said I’ve always proven myself to be ready for anything and I’m great at rallying the team and keeping them on task. But I’ve only been a supervisor just over three years. They want me to have at least five years of experience managing before they promote me to a manager position.”
“That’s bullshit!” Layla turned a bit towards Mel. “How can he say you’re perfect for the job but not give it to you just because of numbers? If you’re perfect for the job now, you should get the job now!”
“I was thinking the same thing, but I couldn’t say it. I actually almost quit right on the spot. When I left my team at Oscar’s, I almost called my boss to leave my resignation on his voicemail. I ran through all of these things I wanted to say. I sounded like I had really snapped.”
“Are you able to take any time off before the new lady starts?”
Mel shook her head while she ate another bite of pie. “Probably not. Why?”
“I was thinking we could take a three-day weekend to get away for a mini-vacation.”
“I might be able to pull off one day. I’ll check the calendar tomorr
ow. Are you sure you’ll be able to get off on such short notice?”
“No, but I’ll try.”
After scraping the last gooey bite from the bowl, Mel set it on the coffee table then pulled Layla into her arms to cuddle. She pushed play on the movie and kissed the top of Layla’s head.
“You’re my favorite human.”
Layla laughed and squeezed Mel around her trim waist. “Thanks. I love you too.”
Chapter Three
Mel felt so ashamed about getting drunk and having to call Layla for a ride that she was up extra early the next morning to make a big breakfast with French toast, eggs over easy, bacon, cubed cantaloupe, and decadent coffees topped with whipped cream drizzled with chocolate syrup. She even brought a plate down the hall to Alice to thank her for safely getting her car back.
Layla and Alice were super appreciative, but they also told her it wasn’t necessary and that they weren’t upset with her. But their reassurance didn’t nullify Mel’s shame or embarrassment. Mel was naturally driven and responsible, so every time she screwed up, it really weighed heavily on her, which typically resulted in her overcompensating.
After feeding Layla and Alice, she stopped at a coffee shop on the way to work to grab a hot box of locally roasted coffee, a couple dozen artisan bagels, and a few tubs of cream cheese. Her team didn’t know about her drinking binge, so they just figured it was extra thanks for getting that big project done early.
Seeing how much her team appreciated her helped reassure her that maybe not getting the promotion at this point in time wasn’t the worst possible thing to happen. She knew her team valued her. She knew management valued her. If the new manager didn’t work out, maybe they would see the error of their ways and give her the promotion after all. At least, that was the dialogue she was playing in her head over and over again all day so she could remain positive. And every time pesky logic interrupted to remind her that management positions don’t come by often, she had to quickly quash the thought with her mantra that her position was secure and eventually she would get her shot to advance.
When she got home from work, she was still battling the yo-yoing emotions. But finding Layla bent over at the hips with her head in the fridge helped melt away some of the stress of having to maintain her false positive attitude all day. She could completely be herself with Layla and could always count on her to empathize and help improve her mood.
“Hey, what do you want for dinner?”
Mel reached over her to grab a bottle of beer, saying, “Something good,” making Layla roll her eyes.
“Oh, you don’t want to eat a pile of shit or the gunk scraped off of the bottom of the dumpsters outback?”
“If the gunk tastes good, then…” Mel shrugged as she took a gulp of beer. “You want to just order something?”
“I swear, you’re trying to make me fat.”
“You’re not fat. You’re beautiful.”
Layla rolled her eyes as she grabbed one of her low-calorie beers. “Skinny people are not allowed to tell curvy people how they should view their bodies.”
“I’m not telling you as a skinny person. I’m telling you as a human being with an appreciation for beauty that I think you look great.”
“Whatever. Thanks. But I feel like a house.”
“What’s that song? Brick house?”
Mel started humming and sang a couple of lines from the 70’s R&B song, brightening Layla’s mood.
She playfully shoved Mel’s arm with an exasperated laugh, and teased, “You’re annoying. What do you want to order?”
“I’m literally game for anything.”
“You want to walk over to The Shack?”
“Sure.”
They finished their beers in a few big gulps, and after tossing them in the recycling can, Mel grabbed her sunglasses and keys off of the hook by the door.
It was a beautiful summer evening. The sky was bright blue with a few streaks of thin white clouds, and it was very warm, but there was just enough of a breeze that the mile-long walk was bearable.
“How was work?”
Mel shrugged as she pressed the button for the crosswalk. “It was alright. I decided to accept that I just have to be patient a little longer and I’ll eventually get my promotion.”
“Even if you don’t get that particular position, maybe another manager position will open up in another department that you’re equally qualified for.”
“True, but I really like my team.” They started crossing the street, and Mel added, “And they’re all cool about me being uber gay. There are some people in other departments that are mega-homophobes.”
“It must be so exhausting purposefully going out of your way to be an asshole. They should just go run a mile instead.”
“Choose exercise over bigotry – you’ll look and feel better. I love it. Okay, now that we have your campaign slogan, when do you want to announce your candidacy for president?”
Between hard laughter, Layla blurted, “Are you crazy? I can’t even get to work on time, ever, and you want me to run for president?”
“Sure, why not? If you’re president, everyone would have to be on your schedule, so you’ll always be on time. See, it solves so many issues. Now, Madame President, what will be your first executive order?”
“That you never call me Madame again. It sounds old.”
“Alright, how is Mistress President?”
Layla burst with laughter again with her cheeks blushing as red as a fire truck. “Oh, my god. You’re crazy.”
“Only for you.” Mel wiggled her eyebrows with a suggestive grin, earning her another bout of laugher from Layla. As she grabbed the door handle to the restaurant, she bowed dramatically, saying, “After you, Mistress President.”
The air-conditioned air felt great after walking in the summer heat for a mile. And the scents of spices, garlic, seared meat, and fried foods awakened their taste buds, causing their mouths to salivate and their stomachs to groan with want.
As they were about to seat themselves at one of the retro-diner style booths along the windows, a few of their friends spotted them and waved them over to their table near the dine-at counter.
“Hey.” Layla bent down to hug each of them. “Did you already eat or did you just get here?”
Gene, a curly-haired guy that towered over all of them at seven-foot tall, when he was standing, answered, “Just got here. Sit with us.”
Mel and Layla filled out the last two seats and a waitress promptly arrived to take their drink orders. The Shack had a monstrously huge drink menu with just about everything you could think of. But their specialties were the traditionally made-to-order sodas, milkshakes, and floats. And nearly every drink could be ordered as virgin or dirty.
After Mel ordered her favorite dirty cherry-vanilla float, Layla said, “I’ll just have unsweetened iced tea,” making Mel quirk an eyebrow. After the waitress walked away, Mel reinforced the expression with a second eyebrow raise, and Layla leaned in to quietly tell her, “I’m watching my calories.”
Mel wanted to tell her that wasn’t necessary and reinforce her previous statement that Layla’s body is perfect as is, but she didn’t want to have that conversation in front of their friends and embarrass her. Instead, she just nodded once and they turned their attention to their friends.
After receiving their drinks, Mel made a show about how good her float was and offered some to Layla to try. And by the expression on her face and the way she accepted the tall glass without hesitation told her that Layla knew the words she wanted to speak.
Even when Layla ordered a pretty basic salad without many bells and whistles that would have added too many extra calories, Mel asked for her burger to be cut in half and requested extra fries. Which earned her an appreciative smile from Layla.
After the waitress left with their orders, Mel excused herself. “I’ll be right back.”
Layla looked at her suspiciously, but Mel didn’t elaborate. She could feel Layla’s
eyes on her though. Each step she took around someone’s chair was closely watched till Mel arrived at the vintage style digital juke box. She typed in the song title and artist, and whispered, “Yes,” when she found it within the song catalogue. She made the selection and paid the extra two-dollars for the song to play right away so she could bypass the other seven songs in the queue.
As soon as the drum beats for Brick House started playing through the sound system, she heard Layla say, “You’re so stupid,” between hard bouts of laughter.
Mel grinned while she sauntered towards the table with her wingtip dress shoes sliding easily over the tile floor and moving her hips with a cocky swagger in beat to the music, turning nearly every head in the restaurant. She popped the pressed collar of her nice sky-blue button-up shirt, and when the Commodores sang the second, “Ow, she’s a brick house,” Mel spun three-hundred-and-sixty-degrees, then proceeded the last bit of distance to their table with some fancy footwork and rocking her hips and shoulders in beat to the music.
Layla was laughing and blushing so vibrantly her cheeks were surpassing the red of the cherries in Mel’s ice cream float. But she accepted Mel’s hand when she tempted her out of her chair to dance next to their table. When the song got to the line, “She knows she’s built and knows how to please,” Mel ran her hands next to Layla’s sides in an hourglass shape, then fanned herself dramatically, as if she was turned on. Layla laughed again and playfully slapped Mel’s arm.
As Layla leaned in, saying, “You are so stupid,” between laughter, she wrapped her arms around her and gave Mel a tight hug.
Mel laughed and kissed her cheek. “You know you love my funky groove thing.”
The other patrons clapped and whistled, embarrassing Layla again. She laughed and pushed Mel back as she sat down. Mel dramatically bowed to her audience before she sat down at the table with their friends looking on with curious grins.
“What the hell was that little dance about? Are you two…?”
Before Beth could finish her inquiry, Layla said, “Mel is just being Mel. She’s silly. We were talking about something on the way here and that song came up.”
