The a to Z of Girlfriends

by Natasha West

  Izzy wondered if this was what it was to fall in love. It had never happened like this, so real. She’d always found herself either playing catch-up with girls who were out of her league (translation: straight) or being pursued by girls who couldn’t really capture her interest. But this was different. It was mutual. Izzy couldn’t believe her luck. She just hoped it would last.

  ‘What’s this about a new job, anyway?’ Scott asked Izzy.

  Izzy answered him immediately. Not because she was proud of herself, though she was. But because she’d done it. She’d proved him wrong. ‘Paying job, with Hit Radio. I’m an assistant on their hourly news, afternoon slot.’

  Both of Scott’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Really? You got a proper contract or is it freelance-’

  ‘It’s a permanent job’ Izzy told him quickly. She was leaving no room for his little questions to start creeping in and casting doubt on everything. Not today.

  ‘Well!’ Scott said and then he seemed to have run out of things to say. But Izzy didn’t care. She could see it in his eyes. She’d won. She was legitimate. It was delicious.

  ‘Does your mother know?’ Scott asked her.

  ‘I told her this afternoon’ Izzy told him.

  Izzy saw her father’s mouth straighten. ‘She didn’t say anything to me about it’ he said tightly.

  Izzy’s stomach flopped. She’d just made a real mistake. She’d just set the agenda for tonight’s row between her parents. She could have kicked herself.

  Still, she was safe with Mackenzie around. There was that.

  ‘OK, well, it’s my turn to make dinner tonight because your mother has book club’ Scott said, trying and failing not to grind his teeth together as he said the words, ‘Book club.’ Izzy had no idea what his problem was with her mum joining a book club, but it never took much to set Scott Mortimer off. ‘Are you staying, Mackenzie?’ he asked, lightening his tone.

  Mackenzie glanced to Izzy and Izzy flashed her eyes, trying to signal her. It landed. ‘Sure, if you don’t mind’ Mackenzie said. ‘But I should clean up this glass. Maybe call someone to come and put in a new pane? I’ll pay for it of course.’

  ‘Don’t be daft!’ Scott said warmly. ‘I can get a new window from the DIY place down the road, get some putty, fit it. I’ve got to pick up something for dinner anyway. No, you save your money.’

  Mackenzie smiled, relieved. ‘Thanks Mr Mortimer. That’s really nice of you.’

  ‘I’ve told you, it’s Scott’ he said and left.

  Izzy blew out a breath. ‘That dick.’ She picked up a shard of glass carefully and threw it in the bin.

  ‘What?’ Mackenzie asked, shocked.

  ‘You didn’t see how angry he was that I told Mum before him?’

  ‘No’ Mackenzie admitted. ‘I thought he was nice!’

  ‘I doubt you’ll ever see him as he really is. He keeps acting like Mr Nice in front of you.’

  ‘Are they still going at it?’ Mackenzie asked sympathetically.

  ‘Yeah. I’m just glad Simon doesn’t have to listen to it anymore.’ Simon was now at university. It was as though he and Izzy were on shifts, taking it in turns to live with their parents’ bad marriage. Izzy was sick to the back teeth of it. The sound of muffled rows drifting through her bedroom floor had become a shitty soundtrack to her life.

  ‘You know, you could move out now you’ve got a paying gig’ Mackenzie told her.

  Izzy nodded. ‘That’s true. I’m sure I could find a house share somewhere.’

  Mackenzie coughed into her hand, suddenly nervous. ‘Actually, I was…’ Mackenzie paused and bit her lip. Izzy waited, genuinely clueless as to where Mackenzie was headed. ‘I’m kind of sick of my house share and the tenancy comes up for renewal in a month’ Mackenzie went on. ‘And I was thinking... I was thinking we could move in together.’

  Izzy’s mouth formed a perfect circle.

  ‘I know it hasn’t been long’ Mackenzie said. ‘But, the thing is… I love you.’

  Tears sprung to Izzy’s eyes. Mackenzie loved her and she wanted them to be together all the time. Izzy was shocked. This was something that happened to other people. Not her. These weeks had been so good, she realised she’d been waiting for it to go wrong. But it wasn’t going wrong. It was going right. Everything was going right.

  ‘I love you too’ she answered, a tear slipping down her cheek. Of course this was love.

  ‘That’s brilliant but why are you crying?!’ Mackenzie asked, equal parts thrilled and worried. ‘You’re not about to tell me you’re dying, are you?’

  ‘Ha, no’ Izzy laughed, still crying a bit. ‘I guess I just can’t believe I found you.’

  Mackenzie walked over to Izzy and pulled her into a tight hug. ‘I can’t believe I found you either’ she said. ‘Maybe it’s time to start believing it.’

  Izzy nodded into Mackenzie’s shoulder. ‘Let’s move in together.’

  Mackenzie pulled back to look into Izzy’s eyes. ‘Yeah?!’

  Izzy nodded and smiled. ‘Absolutely.’

  Twenty-One

  Izzy awoke to that weird smell again. But she didn’t mind. In fact, she smiled, content. This place was a shit hole, no doubt. But it was their shit hole. Izzy’s and Mackenzie’s.

  The lock on the bathroom was broken. There was mould in the bedroom. The fridge was lukewarm. The sofa was a thousand years old. But Izzy had never been happier. She was out of her parents’ place, she had a job that felt like the start of her career and best of all, she was in love. Living in this crappy one-bed might not have been many people’s idea of a fairy tale. But Izzy wasn’t everybody.

  What Izzy found she loved most about living with Mackenzie was waking up with her, planning the day together. What would they do with their free time, they’d ask themselves? Anything they liked. They were a unit, unbreakable, and the world was open to them.

  ‘Hey’ Izzy said, poking Mackenzie in the back. ‘You awake?’

  ‘I am now’ Mackenzie answered sleepily.

  ‘Whoops’ Izzy said. ‘Let me make you coffee.’

  ‘We’re out’ Mackenzie yawned.

  Izzy frowned. ‘Are we? I couldn’t have sworn we had some.’

  ‘I finished it yesterday. Forgot to get some more.’

  ‘Oh’ Izzy said, disappointed. ‘Never mind. I can always have tea.’

  ‘No, we’re out of that too.’

  Izzy bit the inside of her lip. ‘I guess it’s water then.’ She got out of bed and went to the shower. As she lathered up, she wondered to herself why, if Mackenzie knew they were out of stuff, hadn’t she gotten more? Or told Izzy so she could get it on her way home?

  By the time Izzy had towelled off, she was over it. So they were out of hot beverages. It didn’t matter, did it?

  ‘Hey, you wanna grab breakfast out, on the way to work?’ she called through. ‘From that place on the corner?’

  ‘Definitely. Right, better jump in the shower then’ Mackenzie called back, flying into the tiny bathroom. Izzy had to step to the wall not to get squished. But as she watched her gorgeous girlfriend get naked and wet, it was hard to mind. She took her towel off and got back in the shower with Mackenzie. Mackenzie spun to see Izzy, thrilled.

  ‘Well, hello’ she said happily and kissed Izzy. The cubicle was tiny but they didn’t need much room, as close as they were getting. As things got heavy, Izzy found herself pressed against the wall, her head bumping against the shower caddy. But again, as her eyes rolled back in her head, how could she mind?

  ***

  They giggled conspiratorially as they stood in line for coffee. They were both thinking about what they’d been doing only half an hour ago. Izzy had the notion to call in sick, drag Mackenzie back to bed. She was considering suggesting it when a pram bumped her from behind. It caught her on her ankle, right in the sweet spot. She inhaled sharply, and the driver of the pram was apologetic. ‘Sorry’ she said. ‘In too much of a hurry.’

  ‘Why don’t you go in front of m
e then?’ Izzy said kindly.

  The woman smiled. ‘Thank you. You don’t know what a help that is’ she said, driving around Izzy.

  Mackenzie leaned into Izzy’s ear. ‘You’re a sweetie.’

  ‘I’m no hero. Just an everyday woman, trying to do what’s right’ Izzy said, grinning over her shoulder at her girlfriend.

  Mackenzie kissed her cheek. She looked over at the woman, and the baby in the pram. ‘She’s a cute one.’

  ‘Yeah’ Izzy said, checking out the baby. She was standard as far as babies went but Izzy knew you were never supposed to say things like that.

  ‘I think we’d make cute babies together’ Mackenzie said.

  Izzy laughed. ‘One slight problem…’

  ‘I know’ Mackenzie sighed. ‘So, which one of us do you think would carry it?’

  Izzy’s smile began to drop. Was this a serious question? ‘Don’t look at me’ she said, trying to keep it light.

  ‘That’s alright. I’ll do it then’ Mackenzie said and turned her eye to the muffins in the display case.

  Izzy was dumbstruck. ‘Mackenzie’ she said casually, ‘Err… You know I don’t want kids, don’t you?’

  Mackenzie swivelled from the muffins. ‘What?!’ she said, a bit too loudly.

  ‘I don’t want kids’ Izzy repeated. She’d considered this question for a while now and after deliberation, this was the conclusion she’d drawn. It wasn’t for her.

  Mackenzie’s face fell. ‘Oh. Oh. I see. OK.’

  Izzy didn’t like the sound of that second ‘Oh’ at all. It was heavy with dark portent.

  They were now at the front of the queue and Izzy ordered her coffee and Mackenzie’s tea. No one ordered food. They collected the drinks at the end of the counter without looking at each other.

  ‘Right, better get off’ Izzy said, and Mackenzie nodded. They came out of the coffee shop and went in opposite directions.

  Twenty-Two

  Izzy cuddled up to Mackenzie on the sofa as Mackenzie flicked through the channels. She was stuffed full of Indian food, dozy and relaxed. It had been a month since the baby thing had come up. In that time, no one had dared say the word ‘Kids’ again. Izzy felt that was for the best. They weren’t that old. Things changed, people changed. Why get into it? They were here now, in love now.

  ‘What shall we watch?’ Mackenzie asked.

  ‘There’s a documentary on tonight about a journalist in the seventies who was murdered in Guatemala’ Izzy said.

  Mackenzie looked less than thrilled at the prospect. ‘Actually, I was sort of hoping to catch that thing on LTV, Dance ‘Til You Drop’ Mackenzie said.

  ‘Oh. Do you like those shows?’ Izzy asked, surprised.

  ‘It’s light. Sometimes it’s good to have something light to unwind to’ Mackenzie told her.

  ‘Alright, we can watch that’ Izzy said. It wouldn’t hurt, just this once. Maybe they could laugh over it.

  Twenty minutes in - as a break-dancer failed to complete a head spin after he sprained his hamstring with a scream - Izzy giggled. ‘Oh my god, why on earth do people keep going on these shows!’ she said, turning to Mackenzie, expecting to see her hilarity mirrored. But Mackenzie wasn’t laughing. Izzy stopped quickly.

  As the show concluded after what seemed like a year of watching people dance badly for other people whose job was shitting on unrealistic dreams, Izzy breathed her relief. ‘God, that was terrible.’

  Mackenzie turned. ‘Do you have to do that?’

  ‘What?’ Izzy asked, bewildered.

  ‘I was trying to enjoy that and you kept… You kept shitting on it.’

  Izzy frowned. ‘Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t realise you cared so much about dancing.’

  Mackenzie moved to the other side of the sofa. Izzy felt weird. Were they having an argument? They’d never actually had one before. Izzy realised that they’d been on their best behaviour until now. But if the guard was dropping, Izzy wasn’t that happy either.

  ‘Actually’ Izzy said, ‘I really wanted to see that documentary.’

  ‘Why didn’t you say anything then?’ Mackenzie asked sulkily.

  ‘I did’ Izzy reminded her, wondering why she was being this way with Mackenzie. She should just apologise so they could move on. But she couldn’t quite seem to do that. Something petty had reared its head, something defensive. Something ugly. ‘I said I wanted to see it and you said you wanted to watch that stupid thing instead. I was being nice.’

  ‘You’re not being nice now’ Mackenzie said.

  Izzy knew she was right. She was being horrid. She sighed. ‘This is silly. What are we even arguing about?’ she asked, trying to pull up.

  ‘We’re arguing because… Because you’re being selfish. You didn’t want to watch my programme, so you ruined it for me’ Mackenzie said in an unpleasant tone Izzy had never heard before.

  ‘I’m being selfish?’ Izzy snapped. ‘You didn’t even consider watching what I wanted!’

  ‘Who wants to spend their evenings watching docs about murdered journalists?’ Mackenzie demanded.

  ‘I do!’ Izzy cried. She waited to see what Mackenzie’s response was. She hoped that Mackenzie would see how unreasonable she was being. She’d gotten what she wanted, for crying out loud, and she was still complaining.

  But Mackenzie stood. ‘I’m going to bed. Maybe you should take the sofa tonight.’

  Izzy watched Mackenzie storm out, horrified. What the hell had just happened? They’d never spoken to each other this way before. Was Izzy naive to think they never would? Apparently so.

  But she didn’t go after Mackenzie to sort it out, to apologise and hug and make it clear that she was an idiot who would never speak to the woman she loved that way again. Instead, she got the throw from the end of the sofa and lay down, covering herself up. She closed her eyes, waited for sleep and wondered if the row had really been about a dance competition.

  ***

  Izzy woke to Mackenzie standing at the end of the sofa. ‘Hi’ she said, sitting up, not sure what kind of reception she was about to get. It had been a bad night, barely any sleep at all.

  Mackenzie produced a steaming cup of coffee, handing it to her. ‘I’m sorry about last night’ she said sheepishly. ‘I don’t know why I got so mad.’

  ‘No, I’m sorry’ Izzy said instantly. Thank god they were sorting this out. Being angry with Mackenzie had been unbearable.

  ‘OK, then’ Mackenzie said. ‘Anyway, it’s over now. Let’s forget it.’

  Izzy stood and grabbed Mackenzie in a hug. ‘That’s the last argument I ever want to have with you.’

  ‘Agreed’ Mackenzie said.

  Twenty-Three

  Izzy was doing vox pops on the street, asking people how they felt about planned roadworks in the city. It was a boring subject and thus it was getting boring comments. She was getting a bit sick of being sent on these shitty jobs, recording froth that people didn’t really pay any attention to. She was getting a bit sick of her job in general. People treated her like an idiot skivvy and she knew she was capable of more. But every idea she had for a segment was getting shot down by her boss. He wasn’t a bad guy in general. But Izzy wasn’t sure he really saw her potential and that was becoming very frustrating. She wasn’t a dummy. She could make real content for them.

  But she wasn’t getting the chance. Six months on the job and she might as well have been a day one intern.

  ‘So what do you think about the planned works?’ Izzy asked an older guy. She’d tried speaking to younger people but they weren’t interested. It was the over forties that had opinions. ‘Well, it’s going to make getting off the A62 a bloody nightmare, isn’t it?’

  ‘Can you say that again without saying ‘Bloody?’ Izzy asked gently, lowering the mic. ‘I know it’s not really a strong swear word, but we have strict broadcasting rules for the time of day this is going out.’

  ‘Oh, sorry’ the man said. ‘Alright, well, it’s going to make getting off the A62 a frig
ging nightmare, isn’t it?’

  Izzy internalised a sigh and said, ‘Thanks.’

  Her phone beeped as the man walked off and she checked it to find a text from Mackenzie. ‘Sorry, but I can’t come tonight. Something’s come up at work. I promise I’ll make it up to you.’