Sugar Baby

by Robin Roseau

  “That seems like the non-sequitur to end all non-sequiturs,” I said. “What are we talking about?”

  “Thanksgiving.”

  “That’s still two months away.”

  “Six weeks,” she said. “We like both the jellied and the whole berry style. Do you know what I’m talking about?”

  “We’re talking canned?”

  “Unless you know how to make fresh,” she said. “Bring two cans of each. Do you need money?”

  “No, I don’t need money. This is how you’re inviting me?”

  “No. I’ve already invited you. This is how I pin down a clear answer from you.”

  “When did you invite me?”

  “When I invited you to every family event we attend,” she replied. “You’ll stay with us during the break. Maggie said you didn’t keep the apartment.”

  “I didn’t,” I said. “Cherlyn.”

  “So it’s settled.”

  “Do you really think you can just bulldoze over people?”

  “Are you offended?”

  “No,” I said.

  “Then what’s the problem.”

  “I want you to answer my question.”

  She pursed her lips. “This isn’t really how I’ve been before.”

  “You seem quite practiced at it.”

  “First husband left me because I was indecisive.”

  “That’s bullshit.”

  “I was pretty mousy,” she said. “I used to do everything his way. After that, I decided I was going to shove the world the way I wanted it. Astrid, you can always say ‘no’, but you don’t seem to say ‘no’. You just say, ‘Cherlyn’, as if that is a euphemism for ‘no’. So you’re coming for Thanksgiving with four cans of cranberries.”

  “Why didn’t you assign me something to actually cook?”

  “Because you don’t currently have a kitchen,” she said. “And I wouldn’t put a 19-year-old on the spot to cook for a family she’s never met. But anyone can stop by the store and pick up cranberries. Don’t worry. No one expects anything fancy.”

  “Four cans seems like a lot.”

  “It’s a big clan.”

  “They’re all going to fit in your house?”

  “Heavens, no. We go to my mother’s.”

  “Your mother’s?” I squeaked.

  She leaned towards me. “I already begged Bobbie to let me have Maggie for Thanksgiving.”

  “Before you begged Maggie?”

  “Yes, actually.”

  “And what has Maggie said? And you can bet I’m going to check with her.”

  “I wouldn’t lie.”

  “You seem to be willing to overlook people trying to weasel out of your machinations.”

  “They aren’t machinations. She has agreed to come, and she agreed not to say a word to you about my plans.”

  “I imagine it was a longer conversation than that.”

  “Not that long, actually.”

  “Is she calling you ‘mom’ yet?”

  “I’m trying for ‘Mother’,” she said. “To avoid confusion.”

  “Is she?”

  “Not yet,” Cherlyn said. “But she readily answers to ‘daughter’. That’s a start.”

  I shook my head. “Tim didn’t stand a chance.”

  She laughed. “He’s a good man,” she said. “Now, I want a clear answer. What would prevent you from attending Thanksgiving with us?”

  “I might have other plans.”

  “You might have other plans? Come on, Astrid.”

  “Hey!” I complained.

  “I want a real answer.”

  “I’m seeing someone,” I said. “And it’s still six weeks away.”

  “Bring her.”

  “No. That’s a clear ‘no’, Cherlyn. And you’re not allowed to ask about her.”

  “Oh, I don’t agree to that.”

  “Then this is our last lunch.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me.”

  “So you do know how to say ‘no’. I really can’t ask about her?”

  “Until I offer permission.”

  “Is she in the closet?”

  “No. Our relationship is.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “She’s sneaking around with you? Astrid, that’s a recipe for disaster. Or it’s one of your professors.”

  “You see? This is why you’re not allowed to ask. No. She’s not in any other relationships. She’s not associated with the college. But she hasn’t told her family about me.”

  “So she’s in the closet.”

  “I don’t want to talk about it,” I said. “If I want advice, I know I can ask you.”

  She stared then nodded. “At least you know that part.”

  “I do,” I said.

  “I want a clear end to this period of no-asking,” she said.

  “Want all you want. It ends when she gives it permission to end. I’m not satisfying your curiosity if it goes against promises I’ve made to her.”

  “Oh, I wouldn't want you to break promises,” she agreed. “So. You’re seeing someone. You’re not out to her family.”

  “Or her friends.”

  “Astrid.”

  “No judging,” I said. “She makes me very, very happy.”

  “Thanksgiving,” she deflected.

  “She may have something planned for us.”

  “Ah. And you won’t bring her.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “I don’t like this, Astrid.”

  “I don’t like this part of the relationship,” I agreed, “but no relationship is perfect. No judging. Don’t make me pick between you, Cherlyn. You’ll lose.”

  It was her turn to hold her hands defensively. “Fair enough. So, if she hasn’t plans for you, then you will attend?”

  “I’m going to ask Maggie how she feels and will have an answer for you next week.”

  “I want an answer now. If Maggie welcomes your attendance, and if your unnamed lover has no plans for you, then will you come?”

  I considered for a moment then nodded. “Yes, Cherlyn. Thank you for inviting me. How will you introduce me?”

  She laughed. “As my daughter.”

  “Your family knows I’m not your daughter.”

  “As my adoptive pseudo-daughter. I’ll just shorten it. They already think I’m weird.”

  “They’re right.”

  “That’s not very nice.”

  “Oh, please. Half of this is an act you put on.”

  “No, but I find that I am far more likely to get what I want this way. Have you agreed to one single thing for me that you wish you hadn’t?”

  “No,” I said.

  “Well then, no harm, no foul.”

  * * * *

  Later, I asked Maggie about it.

  “Are you mad? She made me promise to let her broach it with you. You know how she is.”

  “I’m not mad, Maggie,” I said. “But it’s your family.”

  “You’re worried how I feel?”

  “Oh, yeah,” I said. “Definitely.”

  “I haven’t even met most of them. I really, really hope you can come, but I suppose you’re doing something with Cassidy.”

  “I doubt it,” I said. “It’s a family event.”

  “Oh. That sucks.”

  “Yeah.”

  “So are you coming?”

  “I’m going to check with Cassidy first, but I told Cherlyn it would depend on that, and on how you really feel.”

  “I really feel like I really, really want her to spend her energy on you and not me.” I laughed at that. “Please come, if you’re not doing something with your sugar mama.”

  “Please don’t call her that.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said immediately.

  “It’s fine.”

  * * * *

  Two hours later, I lay in bed, my phone to my ear. Maggie had her earphones in, but I was sure she’d be able to hear. “Hey,” I said.

  “Hello, Ast
rid,” Cassidy said. “Have a good day?”

  “I did. Lunch with Cherlyn, and then studying.” We chatted for a while. I didn’t want to bring Thanksgiving up. But finally Maggie cleared her throat, and she was looking at me quite pointedly when she did it.

  “Fine, fine,” I said to her.

  “Fine, fine, what?” Cassidy asked.

  “Maggie is giving me The Look,” I said.

  “She wants you to get off the phone.”

  “She wants me to ask you about something,” I said. “Cherlyn invited me to Thanksgiving.”

  “Oh,” Cassidy said. “Good. I don’t have to worry you’ll be home alone.” I grew cold inside at the response, and after a moment, Cassidy swore. “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “It’s fine,” I told her.

  “You should go with Maggie to Thanksgiving,” she said. “I want to talk about Christmas, though.”

  “Oh?”

  “I want you to go away with me.”

  “You’re not going to see your parents?”

  “I have a cousin who has a place in Florida. Normally her family goes, but her husband’s mother is sick, and they’re staying close to home this year.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Yeah, me, too. I’ve only met the woman a few times, but she was funny as hell.”

  “Why do you get to say words like that and I don’t?”

  “Because I’m capable of speaking in a professional fashion, and you’re still learning how to. Stay on subject.”

  “Fine. Sick woman you barely know, but like. Place in Florida?”

  “I’ve asked if I could rent it. We’d fly down Christmas day and come back on the second.”

  “Those sound like the two worst travel days of the year.”

  “We’ll have to get to the airport early is all.”

  “You can get tickets this late?” She didn’t answer. “Cassidy?”

  “I’ve had the tickets for a while.”

  “How long?”

  “Three months.”

  “This woman has been sick this long?”

  “No, that part is new. I’m not saying this well. I had reservations at a hotel, but this place is a lot better.”

  “And you waited to ask me? Why?” Then I swore. “You weren’t sure about me.”

  “I wasn’t sure you were sure about me, Astrid.”

  “So you’d have found someone else?”

  “No. I would have cancelled or taken a friend or gone alone. But that’s not what is going to happen. I’m going to collect you Christmas Eve after I leave my sister’s, and the next morning, we’re going to get up very, very early and fly to Florida.”

  “I want you to pick me up and take me to dinner tomorrow, then take me back to your place and do kinky, kinky things to me.”

  She laughed. “Deal. Christmas.”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. We’ll go shopping this weekend.”

  “I have a suit.”

  “And yet, we’ll go shopping this weekend. Tell me you’re not mad at me.”

  “I’m not mad at you, Cassidy.”

  “Good. Tell Maggie not to listen now.”

  I turned to her. “Tell Cherlyn I’ll bring the cranberries. Now turn your music up.”

  She laughed. If she turned it up, I don’t know.

  * * * *

  Cherlyn was more relaxed with me for the next few weeks. She made a point of calling me “daughter”, and I found myself answering to it.

  It was sweet, and when I asked Maggie about it, she smiled. “I’m cool with it.”

  I had classes until Thanksgiving Wednesday. Cassidy took an early afternoon from work and picked me up. Together, we made a small Thanksgiving just for the two of us. Later, with the cleanup done, we flumped onto the couch, cuddling together. “I’m stuffed,” I said. “Please don’t tickle me tonight.”

  “All right,” she said. “You know that means a double session on Friday. Is Maggie coming over for a movie?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Good.”

  I snuggled in more tightly to her, neither of us really wanting to move. Then finally I softly said, “You’re warm, and you feel good.”

  “I certainly do,” she said. I could hear the grin. She turned and kissed my head. “Happy?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Still mad about tomorrow?”

  “I was never mad,” I said. “I’m sorry I’m sometimes inappropriately needy.”

  “You aren’t,” she replied.

  I thought I was, but I wasn’t going to argue with her.

  It was somewhat later that she climbed to her feet then held her hand out to help me. We headed for her bedroom, arm-in-arm. When we arrived, I turned to her. “We do a lot of different things here.”

  “I suppose we do.”

  “Sometimes you’re very tender with me.”

  “I suppose I am.”

  “You never ask me to treat you that way.”

  “Ah. And?”

  “I guess…”

  “Yes?”

  “Sometimes I worry I’m not showing you how much I enjoy being with you.”

  She laughed, and rather loudly besides. “The howls and screams are a hint, Astrid.”

  “That’s not what I mean, Cassidy. I’m being serious.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “Astrid, you’re not shy with your feelings.”

  I thought I was. I didn’t say that. But I did say, “You pamper me more than you ask me to pamper you.”

  “I’m getting what I want, Astrid,” she said. She caressed my cheek and then kissed me, very sweetly. “I have a very lovely woman sharing my bed. She lets me do anything I could possibly want, and she appears to enjoy it, reveling in it, really.” She paused. “But there’s this one thing.”

  “Name it.”

  “No, I couldn’t.”

  “You could,” I said.

  “No, no. It’s too much.”

  “I’ll do anything you want, Cassidy.”

  “It’s over the line.”

  “I think you should let me be the judge.”

  “I think you should trust me when I tell you I couldn’t be happier.”

  “You’re a brat,” I said.

  “I know. I’m still stuffed. Do you mind if we just get naked and cuddle?”

  “As if you’re capable of holding me and restraining yourself. The only one ever restrained when I’m naked is me.”

  She laughed. “Good one.”

  She got me naked. She changed her mind about “just cuddling”. But it was slow and sweet and felt really, really good.

  She seemed to enjoy what I did, too.

  * * * *

  “All right,” Cherlyn said. She fussed with me a moment. I pointed a finger. “Lick those fingers, and I’m calling Uber.”

  She laughed. “I get it. I get it. I just… Please, girls. Let me fuss at both of you. I didn’t get to fuss when you were little girls. Let me fuss now.”

  Maggie snorted. I said, “Fine.”

  So she fussed, and she clucked a little, and she was a complete mother hen, really, but she was stalling. “Astrid, I want to ask something, but it’s a little delicate.”

  Maggie snorted against. “Since when are you shy about asking something.”

  Cherlyn ignored her. “Are you out of the closet?”

  “That’s not what you’re asking,” I said. “You’re either offering to introduce me to someone, or wondering if you can out me to your family. If it’s the former, the answer is ‘no’. I’m seeing someone, and you know that.”

  “It was the latter.”

  “Then I don’t care,” I said.

  “I am told you don’t like being outed.”

  “No one likes being outed,” I said. “But I couldn’t care much less what your family thinks of me, and they don’t have the power to disrupt my life.”

  “I sort of wish you would care, Astrid.”

  I thought about it. “You know,
there’s a short list of people who matter to me. I care what they think.”

  “Am I on that list?”

  “Yes.”

  She smiled broadly. “Good. I still don’t know what to tell people.”

  “If you tell them I’m gay, they’re going to assume I’m there as Maggie’s girlfriend.”

  “I could do worse,” the woman in question said immediately. I turned to her, and she shrugged. “What?” she said. “Mom actually asked me.”

  “She did?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “I told her I wasn’t going to tell her.”

  “Did you really?”

  She grinned and nodded. “Drove her insane.”

  “Maggie,” I said.

  “Relax,” she replied. “I don’t care what these people think any more than you do. But if you’re afraid of them thinking I’m your girlfriend, I understand.”

  “That’s not it.”

  “Then let them think what they want,” she said. “And I’m not answering questions about it more than once.”

  “Why does this need to come up at all?” I asked.

  “Oh, please,” Maggie said. “There’s going to be about twenty guys hitting on you otherwise.”

  “Believe me, knowing I’m gay won’t change that. Half won’t believe it. The other half will want to watch, and the other-other half will think I just haven’t met a real man.”

  “That’s three halves,” Cherlyn pointed out.

  “There’s some overlap between the three groups,” I explained. “Cherlyn, if I weren’t gay, would you feel a need to point out I was straight?”

  “Well, no.”

  “Then it doesn’t need to come up.”

  “You know that’s not how it works,” she said. “Someone is going to ask if you have a boyfriend.”

  “My love life isn’t their business.”

  “It’s called small talk,” she asked.

  “It’s a prelude to matchmaking.”

  She snorted. “Probably. And if anyone asks me, what do you want me to say? Astrid, I’m not trying to put you on the spot. I’m trying to make sure I don’t say anything I shouldn’t.”

  “Practice this phrase: you should ask her.”

  She laughed. “Is that what you want me to say?”

  “Yes.” Then I narrowed my eyes. “How much have you already blabbed?”

  “Only that my daughter’s roommate is coming.”