“It’s not bad. It’s, uh, kind of a civic service project.”
“Who are you fixing up now? Is this a surprise attack, like you arranged with Gen and me? That night didn’t turn out so well, if you recall.” Yancy sighed, remembering Gen slapping her after she’d grabbed ass.
“Don’t be too grateful. I hear a wedding is coming up,” Roxie answered dryly. “You guys got over it, and I was right-on with my matchmaking.”
“Okay, okay. But who’re the victims this time?
“Gen’s hunky rural medical fellow, Dr. Webster, and the pastoral counselor that’s an Episcopal priest, Erin O’Rourke. She’s cute as a button. I think they’ll hit it right off.”
“Where did you meet Erin O’Rourke? We just met her a couple of weeks ago to begin our prenuptial counseling.”
“In February, she started doing pastoral counseling with my office one day a week. She’s only part-time at her parish in Johnson County, so the arrangement helps both me with my client load and her with her income.”
“You must like her to invite her for dinner and throw one of Gen’s rural fellows at her.”
Roxie grinned. “Yes, I do. And I like Dr. Webster too. She’s got spunk. Add to that the dearth of lesbians in eastern Colorado, and you’ve got a match.”
“If you say so. See you tomorrow then.”
Gen called from the couch, where the Kentucky basketball game played without sound on the TV, “Did Roxie want anything else than the cake?”
“Ice cream.”
“Of course.” Gen laughed.
“Did you know about the blind date?”
“It’s not exactly blind. I think each of them knows another person will be there.”
Chapter Nine
Bobbi entered her condo around three a.m. on Sunday morning, and tossed her coat on the second-hand brown sofa. She went into the kitchen and poured a cup of milk, which she then heated in the microwave. She rubbed her tired eyes. When the milk had warmed, she stirred in hot-chocolate powder and took it into her bedroom, where she got ready for bed.
She made sure to turn off the alarm on her phone and fell asleep nearly as soon as she finished the warm drink.
The phone chirped at nine that morning with a call. Bobbi sighed and reached for it, noting Roxie’s number.
“Morning,” she replied with a raspy voice.
“Oh my God, did I wake you?” Roxie asked.
“No problem. I had a call last night, but I got some sleep and should be getting up anyway.” Bobbi sat up in the bed and took a deep breath to wake herself up.
“Just a quick call to make sure you’re still coming tonight at six for dinner. We’re having chili.”
“What can I bring? Some beer?”
Roxie answered, “Heavens no, don’t bring a thing. You’re a guest. Gen is making dessert and I’m making some corn bread to go with the chili. We’re all set. Also, my wife, Kate, usually has enough beer on hand for a rugby team.”
Bobbi could hear the smile in Roxie’s voice. “Okay. I’ll take you at your word.”
“And I know we talked about it on Wednesday when I stopped by the clinic to ask you and Gen, but I have also invited another person. It will be an all-lesbian gathering.”
“Great, I’d like to meet other women.” Bobbi hoped this wasn’t a set-up. “Just casual, right?”
“Casual, yes. No need to worry. Just wear comfy clothes. We may play some poker or something. Kate also got a new board game for Christmas we’re interested in trying out.”
“Uh, do I know the other people that will be there?”
“I think so. You certainly know Gen and you’ve met her fiancée Yancy. You’ll meet my wife, Kate. And I’ve invited the new pastoral counselor at my office, Erin O’Rourke.”
Bobbi scrunched her eyes and frowned, breathing in deeply.
“Are you still there?” Roxie asked.
“Yeah, sorry, I just needed to…uh, reposition the phone so it wouldn’t drop. I met Erin with two of my patients who are her parishioners.”
“Good. She won’t be a stranger, then. Well, I’ll let you go. See you at six?”
“See you then.” Bobbi ended the call and dropped back onto the bed. “Why me? Why Erin O’Rourke, of all the lesbians in Colorado? The Elf.”
****
“A medical fellow, she said.” Erin picked out a top to go with her black jeans. “Casual, Roxie said.” She placed a cherry red sweater up to her chin, threw it on the bed, then modeled the indigo blue one. “Much better.” She pulled it over her head. “I wonder if there is more than one woman doctor in Gen’s fellowship program?” she asked herself in the mirror. She blew out the breath she had been holding. “You’re in for it, O’Rourke. I just know it’s her. Dr. Take Charge.”
****
Nearly simultaneously, Bobbi and Erin parked on the street in front of Roxie and Kate’s house in town. Bobbi stepped out of her car and noticed that Erin tiptoed along an icy patch on the sidewalk leading to the front door. She caught her arm gently. “Let me help you,” she mumbled. “We don’t want a repeat of your fall.”
“Thanks,” Erin said.
Bobbi quickly glimpsed Erin’s small round face and rosy cheeks, framed by the fake fur of her winter coat, then led them both to the door.
The door opened before they could ring the bell, and Roxie brought them in with a warm smile and a hug. “Hi, kids. Get in here where it’s warm.”
Bobbi liked Roxie. She had given a talk to the new fellows in their first week at Valley View on local mental health resources, meager as they were. Roxie had peppered her talk with plenty of anecdotes and examples of local issues, making the time pass quickly. Bobbi imagined Roxie to be a very good psychologist. Today, she was dressed in a red and purple wool shawl that she had probably knitted herself. Bobbi remembered her clothes matched her bright personality.
“My wife, Kate.” Roxie had her arm around a taciturn, taller woman, whose tanned, wrinkled face spoke of time outdoors. Kate shook both their hands, saying a quiet “hello and welcome.” Roxie took their coats, then she swept them into a living area, where Yancy was watching basketball.
Yancy stood and shook hands with Bobbi and Erin. “Good to see you both again. Did you drive together?”
Erin spit out, “Oh, no,” while Bobbi shook her head quickly. Never with The Elf, she thought.
Yancy looked puzzled, glancing at each of them, then brightened and showed them some seats. “Gen and Roxie are cooking, so get ready for good food, y’all.”
“It smells terrific,” Erin said.
“Yes,” Bobbi agreed. She still stood, feeling at a loss for words with these two women. Yancy she had met only twice—at her initial interview for the fellowship and again for a reception for the new fellows in January with the board of Valley View. The open-concept great room held warm colors. Very inviting.
Erin. Well, that was better left unsaid. She only hoped to get through the evening without arguing with her.
Gen walked into the living area, wiping her hands on a towel. “Hi, Erin. Bobbi.” She hugged each of them, smiling.
Bobbi noted her auburn hair shining in the light of a standing lamp, her large green eyes twinkling, her peaches and cream skin glowing, and her overall demeanor both warm and bright. She hoped Yancy knew she’d won the lesbian lottery being engaged to such a beautiful woman. Gen’s reception of Erin surprised her. “How do you know Mother Erin?”
“She knows Nina, Yancy’s mom. Erin’s officiating at our wedding, so we’re doing prenuptial counseling with her now.” Gen sat next to Yancy on the couch and motioned for them to sit. “It’s been eye opening and fun so far.”
Erin grinned widely. “You guys. You’re a couple of sweeties. I’m enjoying talking with you and getting to know you. I wish all my prenuptial counseling went this well.”
“What do you mean? Had some ringers?” Bobbi had no idea what prenuptial counseling entailed.
“Well, let’s just say some couple
s are not meant to wed.”
How can The Elf order people not to wed? “You mean, you forbid them to get married?” Bobbi asked, her eyes big with indignity.
“No, no. Nothing like that. But it becomes apparent at some time during counseling sessions when a couple doesn’t know each other, or, worse, that they are overlooking some major red flags.”
Bobbi was intrigued now. “What kind of red flags?”
All eyes trained on Erin. “Sexual incompatibility is always a big one. And money is the other. Those two can wreck a relationship faster than a speeding bullet.” Erin sighed. “Then there’s my favorite, abusive behavior. You know, bullying, controlling, demands, insults, and emotional cruelty. All these symptoms predict violence in the relationship, either physical or emotional or both. And sometimes, the relationship has already devolved into physical violence.”
Bobbi blinked. “Oh.”
Images flashed before her. A small angry woman. Being pushed into the wall while warding off the rush of fists. Lying on the floor being kicked. Yelling. Police arriving, saying neighbors had complained. Bruises that Bobbi would try to hide under long sleeves. An ER visit for cuts that needed stitches.
Fear gripped her insides, her stomach roiled, as she pursed her lips and closed her eyes against the images.
Erin’s voice, “Hey, you okay, Dr. Webster?” She lightly grasped her forearm.
Bobbi internally shook herself out of her memories. She tried for a smile. “Sure. I’m sorry, what did you say?”
Erin looked at her with sincere, kind, brown eyes. Bobbi realized how well Erin’s short hair fit her. The Elf kept smiling at her. “What?” Bobbi asked, panicky about missing some important conversation.
“I asked, have you ever been married?” Erin’s eyes remained trained on Bobbi’s face, a shadow of concern darkening her face.
Gen said, “You look a little pale, Bobbi.”
Bobbi gulped. “Will you excuse me?” She leapt up from her chair. “Bathroom,” she murmured.
She tossed water on her face with trembling hands after seeing her ashen skin in the mirror. Her heart pounded in her ears, her hands were clammy, and she struggled to breathe. She recognized the anxiety attack. She closed her eyes and counted to ten to slow her rapid breathing and heartbeat.
It had been a while since the last one of these. She sighed, her head hanging between her shoulders for several minutes. Finally, she checked her pulse and decided she could return to the dinner party as a normal person.
At dinner, Bobbi noted that Erin was looking at her whenever Bobbi’s eyes looked in her direction. Bobbi smiled weakly at The Elf and attempted to attend to the conversation swirling around her. As Erin regaled them with pastoral counseling anecdotes, all were laughing. Bobbi, not having caught the whole story, thought she should laugh too, but couldn’t rustle up the appropriate amount of mirth.
As soon as the dessert had been consumed, Bobbi said her goodnights to the group.
“You’re not going to have some coffee with us?” Roxie asked, disappointment strewn across her face. “We thought we’d play some group game.”
“I’m kind of beat. Sorry, I hope I don’t break up your fun,” Bobbi answered, not precisely telling a lie about being tired, but not telling the whole truth either. She’d been battling the demons of her past since Erin’s talk about abusive relationships. She needed to get home.
“I understand.” Roxie brought her coat and led her to the door, after Bobbi had thanked them all for the evening. “Are you sure you’re all right?” Roxie peered knowingly into Bobbi’s eyes. “I noticed you checked out during dinner. Did we do or say something?”
Bobbi quickly replied, “Nothing. No. Y’all were very gracious. The food tasted great. I apologize for my appalling social skills. After a long night on call, I can be in another world.”
Roxie nodded, seeming to take in that rationale. “Well, go home and get some rest. I hope to see you again soon.” She smiled.
Chapter Ten
As soon as Bobbi closed the door at her condo, she breathed deeply and relaxed her tight shoulders. She’d not felt her heart rate ramp up like this for at least three months. She hadn’t drunk any alcohol at Roxie and Kate’s, but now just wanted to check out from all the memories she’d shut away last year. First, Erin, then Mrs. Stephens’s perfume, and now relationship talk. Too much all together.
She grabbed the bourbon from her living area cabinet, poured two fingers, got ice from the fridge, and plopped on her couch to sip. It was only eight-fifteen. She hoped she hadn’t been rude to leave so early. But hell, it hurt, even after a year.
The devils of memory swirled around her brain. Stephanie, so kind that first day of her residency, helped her get the lay of the land at Oregon State’s rural residency program. Then Stephanie flirted openly with her. Bobbi liked her very much and asked her out on a few dates. Stephanie’s behavior, always coquettish and feminine, was a magnet to Bobbi.
Bobbi never had time for seriousness in her previous dating life. Always too much studying in medical school, too many body systems to memorize, drug actions and reactions to learn, and disease symptoms and treatments to understand. But with Stephanie, things had transpired differently. She felt herself falling for her. Her smile, her intelligence, her petite figure, and her perky personality—all held Bobbi in thrall those three months of dating. Finally, Bobbi gathered up her courage and asked Stephanie to move into her apartment in Bend.
Stephanie moved in on a Saturday and they made love nearly the whole, beautiful night. Bobbi felt on cloud nine. Sunday, they relaxed, catching up on their medical journal reading, feeding each other pizza, and kissing. It felt so good to have someone in the house with her.
On Monday, Stephanie came home late.
Her voice held a tone Bobbi hadn’t heard before. A tinny, cutting tone. “What are the dishes still doing in the sink?”
Bobbi looked up, shocked to hear the disapproval lacing Stephanie’s statement, and mumbled, “Sorry. I’ll get right on it.”
Stephanie threw her briefcase on the couch roughly. Bobbi jumped, startled. “Did you have a bad day?” She couldn’t comprehend Stephanie’s mood. She only wanted it gone and strove to fix it the rest of the night.
The next week went fairly well, but that weekend, they had a fight about what to have for dinner. Bobbi apparently had forgotten to get chicken for a recipe Stephanie planned to cook. Stephanie threw a kitchen towel in Bobbi’s face.
Bobbi again felt stunned. She didn’t grow up in a household where yelling and throwing things had ever occurred. Her parents had their squabbles, mostly about the lack of money. They raised their voices, but the fights were always short-lived and afterward, included kisses, hugs, and apologies. As a younger person, she would tense for a bit during their loudest exchanges, but they never scared her or made her feel her parents didn’t care for or respect each other. Bobbi started to wonder where she was going wrong with Stephanie.
Stephanie’s behavior the next week amplified. She found something wanting every day about Bobbi’s clothes and hair. Or the house never was clean enough. Or she’d forgotten to clean the cat litter.
The atmosphere in the apartment took on a tension that caused Bobbi to stay at the clinic longer after seeing patients. She would find reasons to look up diagnoses in the library or consult with an attending on a patient’s treatment.
This had been the wrong thing to do.
Stephanie became outraged when Bobbi walked in very late one night. She grabbed Bobbi by the collar and asked where she’d been. Bobbi’s heart rate skyrocketed, her hands became clammy, and she stuttered her answer, “I…I was at the library checking on the latest treatment for congestive heart failure.” She gave a pleading look into Stephanie’s squinting eyes. “Remember? I’m giving a presentation at rounds tomorrow.”
Stephanie dug into her shoulders painfully.
“You’d better be calling me when you’re late. How do I know you weren’t out with t
hat nurse from the med-surg floor?”
Bobbi looked wildly at her, trying her best to remember any nurse. “What nurse?”
That’s when Stephanie shoved her into the dining table, causing the crockery pot with a small plant on it to hit the floor in pieces. Bobbi rubbed the spot on her hip that had caught the edge of the table. She gulped.
“You know damn well which nurse. The red-head who keeps flirting with you.”
“She’s not flirting. I swear. We shared a joke a couple of days ago. You came by just when she hit the punch line.” Bobbi’s voice felt small and afraid. How could she fear this tiny woman whom she thought she loved?
Stephanie grabbed her by the shirt again, then flung her toward the bedroom. “Get out of my sight. I don’t want to see you again tonight. Do you hear me?”
Bobbi was so flummoxed she didn’t even know how to argue back or defend herself. She spent the night in her bedroom, trying, without much success, to read for her presentation, her breathing rapid with uncontrolled fear.
The next few days continued in this vein. Bobbi tried mightily to do everything Stephanie wanted, but it seemed impossible. Anything was fair game for being criticized: how she did the laundry, the lackadaisical housework, her bad cooking. Bobbi knew she wasn’t the neatest housekeeper, but Stephanie would point out the most insignificant, minor problem, from not taking out the trash to leaving her shoes in the living room.
Stephanie also began to harp on the amount of time Bobbi was away from the apartment. She didn’t like Bobbi’s friends, her colleagues, or her family, and insisted that Bobbi do everything with her. She required Bobbi to check in through the day so she knew where she was and what she was doing.
And when Bobbi didn’t respond to Stephanie’s satisfaction, the physical abuse escalated as well. In a rage over spilled coffee on the kitchen floor, Stephanie pushed Bobbi against a wall. She punched Bobbi in a fit of anger over Bobbi leaving the mail in the mailbox. Bobbi could feel again the pushes, slaps, kicks, cuffs, and the constant criticism of the smallest failures. Always, in a half hour, Stephanie cried and begged. She was always so sorry, so apologetic. It wouldn’t happen again.
Bobbi and Soul Page 6