by Robin Roseau
That shut her up, and we rode in silence for a few minutes. Finally I said, “Cassidy?”
“Yes?”
“I can’t imagine a better way to spend my break or anyone I’d rather spend it with.”
* * * *
We played. We went for walks on the beach. She held my hand. We teased each other. We ate out some evenings and grilled for others. We had bonfires a few nights, sitting together on a double-wide lounge, cuddling together and murmuring softly.
Yes, we had sex. Yes, some of it was kinky. No, none of it was on the beach or in a pool. It was all within the confines of her cousin’s small, but lovely house.
For New Year’s Eve, we stayed home, Cassidy giving me the choice. We cuddled together, watching some fireworks, then went inside and made long, slow, gentle love with each other.
Later, as we were holding each other, I said it.
“I love you.”
There was dead silence, but she stiffened.
“Oh, God,” I said. “I didn’t intend to tell you. I’m sorry.”
“Quiet,” she ordered.
“But-”
“I mean it, Astrid. Quiet.” She paused. “Why are you apologizing?”
“You told me to be quiet.”
“Don't be coy.”
“I didn’t intend to tell you.”
“So you’ve thought about it.”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“And… it sounds like a line.”
“Do you mean it?”
“Cassidy,” I whine. “Can’t we forget it?”
“No. Did you mean it?”
“Of course I meant it. Do I make a habit of lying to you?”
“How long have you felt this way?”
“Months.”
She said nothing for a while, then she rolled to me, climbing partially above me and looking down into my eyes. Then she kissed the corner of my mouth. “I love you, too, Astrid.”
Changes
There weren’t any, not really. Changes, that is. I’d said it. She said it back. I began saying it more often. She did, too. More often. Funny. Just once is more often than never. Anyway.
But otherwise, life continued. I called Cherlyn, “Mom”. She called both Maggie and me, “Daughter”. We each had our weekly lunch with her, which I cherished. She asked about, “Your girlfriend” a few times, but she didn’t push as hard as I feared.
Spring break approached. Cassidy apologized. “I have this thing for work. I can’t get away. But I want you to stay here, with me. Will you be bored?”
“No. I’ll get a jump on spring term, and I might go to work with Maggie once or twice. Cherlyn wants me for dinner a few times, too, but I don’t know.”
“What don’t you know?”
“I want to be here with you.”
“I’m going to be working a lot,” she said. “We have a deadline. It’s an audit thing. It’s very stressful. I would really appreciate if you were here when I get home, but that might not be until nine some nights. We’ll coordinate.”
“All right. I could bring you dinner some nights.”
“Maybe.”
That didn’t happen, but the rest did. It wasn’t as nice a break as New Years in Florida, but it was nice to be held every night, and to feel appreciated.
The beginning of May arrived, and Cherlyn told me she wanted me living with them.
“That’s silly,” I said. Maggie stayed some nights, but she lived with Bobbie, not Tim and Cherlyn.
“You don’t need to spend money on an apartment.”
“Cherlyn, to Tim, I’m just Maggie’s friend and your lost sheep.”
“I want you to think about it,” she replied. “Promise you’ll think about it.”
“I’m going to talk to my girlfriend about it,” I said. “And don’t start.”
“I didn’t say a word.”
“You wanted to.”
“What I want is to meet her.”
“Don't start,” I said again.
“I didn’t bring it up, Daughter,” Cherlyn said. “Now hug me.”
I gave a little laugh but did as I was told. That evening, I relayed the high points of the conversation to Cassidy. “What do you want me to do?” I asked her.
“What do you want to do, Astrid?”
“I want to be with you,” I told her. “But all the reasons I had an apartment last summer still apply.”
“I suppose they do,” she said. “Do you want to live with them?”
“Cassidy, I want to be waiting for you when you get home. And it’s a little weird, because Maggie doesn’t live there.”
We talked about it for a while. Finally, Cassidy sighed and said, barely audible, “I don’t treat you very well.”
“That’s not at all true,” I said.
“We’re having this discussion because I’m keeping you isolated from the rest of my life.”
“Cassidy, it’s fine.”
“No, it’s not.” She made a disgusted sound. “Do you know what I want?”
“Me in a black negligee.”
“Yes, but I’m trying to stay on track.”
“I’m sorry.”
“That’s a nice image,” she said. “Thank you, actually. Now I’m smiling.”
“Good. What do you want?”
“I want you here. So I think you should see if you could have sleepovers with Maggie once or twice a week.”
“Oh,” I said. “I get it.”
“If you want an apartment, we can do what we did last summer.”
“You shouldn’t have to pay for that if there are other choices.”
“I think you enjoyed having your own place.”
“I felt like a grownup,” I said. “Sort of. And the pool was nice. But back and forth was kind of a pain in the ass at the same time. There’s one problem.”
“Travel across town.”
“Yeah.”
“It’s too far to take the scooter.”
“And unless you’re willing to meet her, I can’t let Cherlyn see where I’m living, or I’m afraid she’ll stalk you.”
“She wouldn’t.”
“Oh, she definitely would,” I said.
“Transportation is solvable,” she said. “And less expensive than an apartment. But If you want the apartment…”
“I don’t. I like your idea.”
* * * *
So I suppose there was one change. The conversation with Maggie and Cherlyn was interesting. I invited myself to their Wednesday lunch but said I was staying for a soda then leaving. They told me I could stay, but I told them, “No. I’m going to go hit the library.” I paused. “So.”
“So,” Cherlyn said.
“I talked to my girlfriend.”
“And she’s ready to let me meet her?”
“No,” I said. “She has a place this summer.”
“Oh?”
“And she wants me to live with her.”
“Oh,” Cherlyn said, and she sounded honestly disappointed, just in that one word.
“It’s a little weird if I stay with you, Cherlyn,” I told her. “Maggie lives with Bobbie.”
“Tim is fine with it.”
“Here’s the thing. My girlfriend needs one or two nights away from me each week.” Cherlyn’s lips tightened. “Last summer, I had my own apartment. Maybe you remember. I spent most nights with her, but not every single night.”
Cherlyn folded her hands and studied me. Maggie pointedly said not a single word. I waited, wondering if she would ask. “How did you pay for this apartment?” Yep. She asked.
“Does that matter?”
“I don’t know,” she said. “Astrid, this is not a normal relationship you have with her.”
“I know it’s not,” I said. “And I don’t care.”
“Are you dealing drugs?”
“What?” I spat. “Is that what you think?”
“I don’t know what to think. My next guess is that you’re working
somewhere shady.”
“I’m not,” I said. “And I’m certainly not selling drugs, and I think you know that.”
“I am fairly certain we are having this conversation because you are trying to decide where you will stay the nights you aren’t at your girlfriend’s place.”
“True. We are.”
“And there are two possible answers on the table, one of which involves an apartment that, presumably, needs to be paid for.”
“I’m not asking you to pay for it, Cherlyn.”
She pursed her lips. “Why aren’t you calling me ‘Mom’?”
“Are we getting sidetracked?”
“No, we are not. Answer me.”
“Because you turn all melty and stuff when I do that, and it would feel like manipulation while I’m wondering where I’m staying this summer.”
“Oh.”
“The least complicated answer is the apartment,” I said. “And how it’s paid is my problem that I know how to solve.”
“But you’re not going to tell me.”
“No, I am not.”
“Which means it’s illegal, immoral, or both.”
“Maybe I’m secretly a government agent.”
“Right.”
“Maybe I pay for it by signing up for medical studies or something.”
“If you were you’d admit it,” Cherlyn said. “Care to try again?”
“Not particularly,” I replied. “The apartment is the simplest. It doesn’t involve coordinating with anyone else. I can use my girlfriend’s scooter, if I pick somewhere that’s accessible to her place.”
“Why do you never use her name?”
“Are we getting sidetracked again? Cherlyn, why are you so angry?”
“Because I don’t like the way she treats you!”
“And I’m telling you, she treats me far better than you can imagine.”
“I’m not convinced.”
“You don’t have to be convinced,” I said. “You have to trust I’m not an idiot.”
“I know you’re not an idiot, but people do pretty stupid things for love.”
“Do the three of us want to discuss options for the summer, or do you want to continue to tell me how little faith you have in me?”
“That isn’t fair, Astrid. Do you blame me for being worried?”
“I know it’s weird. I know you’re frustrated because I won’t let you meet her.”
“And there are all these other things with no explanation. You’re doing something that’s not above board, Astrid.”
I looked away. It took a minute, but then I said, “Almost a year and a half ago, my parents disowned me for being gay.”
“Astrid,” Cherlyn said. “I’m not judging.”
I turned back to her. “Yes, you are, and you don’t have a clue what I’m doing.”
“And you’re so afraid to tell me, you must not be very proud of it.”
“I’m going to school. I’m getting good grades. I’m not doing drugs, and I’m sure you know it. I’m not doing anything illegal or dangerous. I’m not working anywhere that’s skeezy.”
“But you don’t think I’ll approve,” she replied.
“I think I was given a choice. Drop out of school, or make an arrangement.”
“And so you made an arrangement.”
“Yes, I made an arrangement,” I said. “But not with the school.”
“The bank?”
“I talked to the college administration three times. I had absolutely zero income. I had zero savings. They were willing to work with me, but that only went so far.”
“What did you do, Astrid.”
I stood up then leaned on the table. “You may judge me the day you come up with a better solution.”
“What did you do?”
I glanced at Maggie. She shrugged. Cherlyn saw that and turned to her. “You know about this.”
“Of course I do. I’m her safety network.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”
“I signed up with a sugar baby service,” I said. “Until I settled down with just one patron, I made sure Maggie always knew where I was and when I’d check in next. And my patrons knew I had someone.”
“You’re a hooker?” She kept her tone down, but it was accusatory nevertheless.
“Prostitution is illegal,” I said. “But I admit, it’s on the edge. The legal side of the edge. For the record, my patrons were all women, but I’ve only had one for over a year.”
“Your so-called girlfriend.”
“She’s paying me enough to stay in school,” I said. “And it’s legal, so don’t even think of causing trouble. You may begin judging the minute you can give me a better solution.”
Then I turned and, head high, walked away.
* * * *
Two hours later, I looked up. “I’m sorry,” I told her. “I bet that was a fun lunch after I left.”
“It’s fine,” she replied. “Are you all right?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Do I want to know how judgmental she was?”
“Probably not, but really, it wasn’t that bad. It was more incredulousity.”
“That’s not quite the right word.”
“Yeah, well.” She crossed the room, dropped her bag off on her desk, then plopped down on her bed, staring at the ceiling. “She was mad.”
“I imagine.”
“At herself.”
“Why?”
“Because I refused to let her be a bitch if she didn’t have any better ideas. So I think she’s mad she couldn’t come up with any.”
I snorted. “Sucks to be her, then.” I paused. “I know she was only trying to help, but she kept pushing and pushing and pushing.”
“I know,” Maggie said. “I wonder if she’ll learn to back off when people tell her to back off.”
“Probably not.”
“How soon do you have to look for an apartment?”
“I don’t know. Probably this weekend.”
“Could you wait a week?”
“Why?”
“Could you?”
“I suppose. I’ll see what Cassidy thinks.”
“If you can wait, I think you should,” she said.
“Not too long.”
* * * *
Cassidy took one look at me. “What happened.”
“What are we doing tonight?”
“Dinner. After that, I didn’t have anything in particular planned.”
“Could we pick something up? Could you just take me home?”
“Of course, Astrid.”
She told her car to dial for Vietnamese. We rode quietly, making it to her place thirty minutes later. We puttered with plating our dinner, and then I sat quietly, staring at the food, just sort of stirring it around for a while. Finally I looked up at her. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Why are you thanking me?”
“For not pushing.”
“I would have started if I thought you needed it. What happened?”
“Cherlyn is pushy.”
“Ah.”
“She thought I was dealing drugs or working in a strip club or something like that.”
“Ah,” Cassidy said, this time in a different tone. “How much did you tell her?”
“I told her I was a sugar baby and then didn’t give her any time to turn judgmental about it.” I explained a little more then looked down at my food. Finally I asked in a tiny voice, “Are you angry with me?”
“No.” She reached across the table and took my hand. “You haven’t done anything wrong. And consider something.”
“What’s that.”
“Now you’ve told her, so you don’t have to hide it anymore.”
“I’m pretty sure I won’t have to worry about hiding anything from Cherlyn anymore. I bet she’s regretting the whole lost sheep, call her daughter routine now.”
“Well, I’m going to give you the same advice Maggie did. Give her a little time. Don’t prejudg
e her.”
I nodded, just once.
“All right. Do you think you can eat?”
I demonstrated by taking a bite. We ate quietly, neither of us filling the space with noise, and then we cleaned up together. As I was putting the last thing away, Cassidy stepped to my side, and I already knew where her hand would land. She set it on my bottom and began rubbing, and then she began hiking my skirt up until she could reach my undies.
She rubbed for a minute. I slowed down what I was doing, enjoying what she was doing, then stood there, leaning against the counter and staring straight ahead.
“How long would you let me do this?” she asked.
“I think you’d get bored before I did,” I said then looked over my shoulder at her. “Pleased with yourself?”
“Mildly,” she admitted. “What do you need from me tonight?”
I turned. She kept her hand where it was, so I effectively moved into an embrace, wrapping my arms around her neck. She added her second hand on my other hip. I looked up into her eyes. “We have a strange relationship.”
“I don’t think it’s that strange,” she said.
“All right, but it’s not simple. We don’t get to use just one, simple term.”
“This isn’t that complicated, Astrid.”
“Yeah, well. Cassidy, right now, I just want to be your baggage-free sugar baby. How does that sound to you?”
“That sounds pretty good to me,” she said with a smile. “But I’m not convinced you aren’t my girlfriend who has had a difficult day and could use a little pampering.”
“I am your girlfriend,” I said. “That part is true. But I’m also your sugar baby, and that part is also true. And rule number one of being a good sugar baby is don’t burden the relationship with baggage.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s not rule number one, and it’s fine, Astrid.”
“Why are we arguing?”
“We’re not arguing, but it’s my turn. To put it the way you did, I am your sugar mama, and that part is also true.” I smiled at the way she turned my words around. “And rule number one of being a sugar mama is taking care of my baby.”
“You take very good care of me,” I said. “May I stay the night.”
“You may always stay the night,” she replied. Then she lifted her hand from my hip to caress my cheek. “I want you.”
“Good,” I replied. “I’m yours, Cassidy, in every way I can imagine. Please take me at face value about this.”