Constance’s pleasure thrilled Renee. Sixteen years later, her beauty still enchanted Renee.
Renee wasn’t sure when Constance had gripped her thigh, but now that she was aware of it, she couldn’t concentrate on La Boheme. Constance, on the other hand, was totally engrossed. By the death scene, tears streamed down her face and she seemed to be mouthing the words to the famous duet. Renee was charmed and fascinated. This was a side of Constance she hadn’t seen before.
After the performance, they moved outside to the plaza with the crowd, and though the fountain wasn’t shooting into the air as it did in warm weather, the pulsing of the water and the beauty of the lights were mesmerizing. Constance slipped her arm through Renee’s arm. “Let’s walk home.”
It was only ten blocks and Renee was happy to prolong the night. “Of course.”
Neither spoke for the first few blocks, then Renee became aware of Constance softly singing and it sounded like she was repeating the end of Mimi’s dying aria, no fireworks or soaring orchestra, just a very quiet expiring of her life. It was gorgeous. “I didn’t know you sang.”
Still with tears in her eyes, Constance stopped and looked up at Renee. “We have a lot to learn about each other, Renee.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed Renee’s cheek. “Thank you for tonight. I haven’t been out like this since before Nigel died. And to be honest, since he died I’ve had no desire to hear music or be entertained. I just wanted to be alone in my studio with my brush and paints and canvas. I feel…”
When it became obvious that Constance wasn’t going to finish her statement, Renee asked. “You feel what?”
Constance tucked her arm back under Renee’s arm and propelled them forward. They walked another block in silence. “I’m afraid I’ll scare you again if I say, but if we’re going to be in each other’s lives, I want us to be honest.” She took a deep breath. “I feel you’re bringing me back to life.”
“I’m glad.” Renee pulled Constance’s arm closer. For some reason that statement didn’t scare her. Instead, it made her want to do more to make Constance happy. “I like you like this, singing and smiling and very alive. I imagine Nigel’s death was a tremendous blow.”
Constance slid her hand down Renee’s arm and entwined their fingers. “Yes, his death did me in, but in therapy I realized recently that I’d put myself into a state of suspended animation after we married. Though I was happy with him and the girls and our life, only a part of me was there, the rest was hidden, waiting. It’s hard to explain.”
Renee thought about it. Only being partly in your life. She’d been doing that for as long as she could remember. Real or imagined, her feelings for Darcy had served to keep her from living fully just as Nigel and the twins had done for Constance. “I think I understand. I feel like I’ve lived most of my life like that. And, I believe you’re the one bringing me back to life, as scary as life is.”
Chapter Thirteen
“Delicious as always, Renee.” Gina arranged her fork and knife on her plate and then folded her napkin. “I’ve wanted to get together, just the two of us, for a while but work has been crazy. Thanks for taking the initiative.”
“I’ve missed you too.” Renee stood. “And I need to talk.” She pulled Gina up. “I’ll clean up later. Let’s sit in the living room.” Gina wrapped her arms around Renee. “I meant what I said at the wedding. I’ve been worried about you for quite a while. And then at the wedding you looked devastated watching the brides.” She leaned back to see Renee’s face. “Talk to me, honey.”
Renee had invited Gina here to talk, but holding her, letting herself feel her love for Gina, she panicked. Would she be opening old wounds and lose her? But then feeling the love in Gina’s embrace, the caring in her voice, Renee trusted they would be all right.
“Bring your wine.” She led Gina to the sofa and swiveled to face her. Forgetting she had changed into a T-shirt and jeans she reached up to loosen her tie.
“No tie.” Gina laughed. “But that gesture means you’re nervous.”
They really did know each other well. “I am nervous because I need to rehash old history and I’m afraid of losing you.”
“Just spit it out. You can’t shock me. And even if you do, you won’t lose me so easily.”
Feeling the need to connect physically, to hold on, Renee clasped Gina’s thigh. “I’ve been unhappy with my life for a year and seeing Darcy and Andrea so in love and so happy brought up thoughts of what might have been with her. Thoughts of what might have been with you, thoughts of us. After the wedding, I went into therapy to figure things out, so I’ve been thinking a lot about the past, about the women who have been, who are, important to me. I know we were headed for a breakup but I feel I owe you an apology for bailing the minute Darcy needed me.”
Gina waved her hand. “No apology needed. We were both so raw from the constant fighting. Our relationship was already teetering. It was clear we both needed to escape. You running to comfort Darcy gave me the excuse I needed to break up.” She squeezed Renee’s hand. “Are you finding the therapy helpful?”
“Yes.” Renee sipped her wine. Damn she was really nervous about bringing this up. “It seems my being mixed race has been more important for me than I let myself know. I was hoping we could talk about it.”
Gina pulled away. “Are you sure? I was pretty harsh back then. I’m afraid rehashing will ruin our friendship.”
Renee took Gina’s hand and held their two hands in front of them. “One white, one a deep tan. A few shades lighter or darker makes all the difference doesn’t it?” She locked onto Gina’s eyes. “I need to talk about it Gina, please. And I hope you’ll be honest.”
“You know I’ve changed my opinion since then, right?” Gina bit her lip. “You promise it won’t come between us?”
“I promise, though I might bitch a little along the way.”
Gina punched Renee’s arm lightly. “How else would I know it’s you?”
“You obviously have white blood somewhere in your family. And, judging by the color of her skin, so does Beth. Am I wrong to assume rape by a master way back?”
Gina reached for her glass and sipped. “As far as either of us knows that’s a good guess. And your mom and her sisters are probably mixed race for the same reason.”
“And they, like you and Beth, are obviously African-American. Have you only dated dark-skinned women since me?”
Gina drank some wine and put the glass back down on the coffee table. “When we were a couple, I felt as if we lived in two different worlds, mine black, yours white. I had to constantly explain myself to make you understand my world. So yes, I’ve only dated obviously black women since you. It’s just easier. Because our life experience is similar it’s not necessary to explain certain things like what it feels like to be the only black person in the room or how people assume you must be the hired help not the top executive, or why the many small slights we call micro aggressions these days are racist. We don’t have to struggle to communicate the anxiety, the ever-present fear of random violence from white men, and recently, white women. Even if white-presenting blacks like you make a point of identifying as black the assumption out in the world is that they are white and are entitled to be treated accordingly. So when they go into a store nobody follows them around thinking they’re there to steal.”
She hesitated, seeming indecisive, but then continued. “It doesn’t happen that often but it happened when I was in Chicago a month or so ago. I ran out of moisturizer so I dashed into Macy’s wearing an expensive business suit and carrying my expensive leather briefcase. As I wandered around looking for the counter with my brand, I became aware I had an escort, a store security person, a black woman. I confronted her and flashed my IBM ID. She got flustered and walked away. Without an apology. I am a fucking senior vice president at a major American corporation, Renee, not a dirty street person dressed in rags, and yet I still have to deal with that kind of thing. It hurts.”
The rage and the hur
t in Gina’s voice broke Renee’s heart. She knew these things of course; she read the papers and watched TV news but it always seemed distant, never personal. She was shocked to hear that even Gina was subjected to this blatant racism. “I’m so sorry you have to deal with that, Gina. I feel as stupid and confused as I did as a freshman in college. I still don’t know what to say or do to make it better.”
“Nothing you can do or say will make it better, Renee. I just want you to understand. That would never happen to you or any white-presenting black. No one will call the police if they see you struggling with the lock on your apartment or car. You’re less likely to be stopped and harassed by the police. And, let’s not forget, less likely to be killed by police on your own property while minding your own business. That’s why we live in Harlem.”
“What?” Renee couldn’t help the shock in her voice. “I thought it was because it was easier for you to drive to work in Armonk, for Beth to take the subway to midtown and because apartments are less expensive?”
Gina laughed. “That too, my gullible friend. But, it’s easier. And we feel safe. Of course, we’re probably kidding ourselves because NYPD cops in Harlem aren’t necessarily less racist than those in midtown, and who’s to say some black criminal won’t rob us or worse?” Gina shrugged. “But we feel more comfortable, less like targets. Nobody pays attention to us in the supermarket.”
“Wow. I never guessed.” Renee thought about what Gina had just revealed, and tried to understand. “I’m so sorry. I guess you’re right. It’s impossible for me to understand what your life feels like if mine is so different.”
Gina blew out a breath. “You’re an empathetic person. Maybe you didn’t want to know?”
Renee considered the question. Did she not want to know? Could it be related to her not wanting to deal with being biracial? “You used to accuse me of being racist. Do you still think that’s true? Maybe that’s why I avoid knowing?”
“No.” Gina leaned forward. “I’ve realized over the years that you have no choice because people see you as white and they treat you as white. As I did.” She looked uncomfortable but rushed on. “But I still believe your white skin affords you a life of white privilege that makes it difficult for you to grasp what having brown or black skin means.”
“I can’t change my skin color, Gina, and I may never really get it, but I really do want to try. I’m sorry I was so insensitive when we were together. But every time we tried to talk about race and racism we ended up screaming at each other. I think I felt under siege and I didn’t know how to be different. Obviously, I still don’t know but I’m ready to grapple with who I am in the world.”
“You’re not the only one with problems, Renee.” Gina shifted so they were face-to-face again. “I owe you a couple of apologies. I apologize for having the hubris to assume I knew what being you felt like and for accusing you of being a racist. I now believe The Black Student Alliance, me included, was racist for rejecting you because you didn’t fit what we thought of as black. And I’m sorry that at the same time I was rejecting you as not black enough, I was putting a lot of energy into seducing you. I especially cringe remembering that I was so ashamed of being involved with you that I insisted we hide not only our casual sexual encounters, but even what we thought was going to be a long-term relationship in our senior year. Sometimes I felt crazy because I loved you and I hated you at the same time.” She squeezed Renee’s hand. “I hope I’m not the reason you’re in therapy.”
“No. It’s me.” Renee considered whether she should share the reason with Gina. She was tired of secrets. “Actually, I’ve carried a torch for Darcy more than twenty years. No let me correct that. I thought I carried a torch for Darcy but I’m learning that I used imagined feelings to keep myself from committing to anyone.”
Gina laughed. “Thank God. I’ve worried that you swore off anything permanent after me. Interesting that you used Darcy and not me. Maybe it’s because we were both so wounded by our relationship that deciding to end it was a relief. I know I couldn’t think about you at all for the first year. It took a few years to heal, to remember what I loved about you. But you never had a chance to end your relationship with Darcy. Didn’t she get together with Tori while you were still thinking you could get back together at some point?”
“True. But I’m starting to see that it’s not Darcy but something deeper I need to deal with. Self-hate is part of it. I go into every relationship expecting to be rejected because I’m biracial.”
“Self-hate because you’re biracial?” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “Oh lord, did I contribute to that?”
“You might have fanned the flames a bit, but believe me, it started long before I met you. I’ve just become aware of it in therapy so I’m still trying to get a handle on it.”
She could feel Gina pulling into herself, probably feeling guilty. “You didn’t cause it, Gina, I promise. Don’t withdraw. We were young and we were who we were then. And now I need you to help me deal with my own racism.” She leaned in to hug Gina and kiss her cheek.
Gina relaxed. “Thanks, Renee. I’m here.”
Time to talk about something happier. “On a lighter note, call it fate or the universe laughing at me, the week after Darcy and Andrea’s wedding when I was feeling down, I reconnected with the only woman besides you and Darcy who I could ever see a future with. Her name is Constance. We were involved at Stanford when she was a senior undergrad and I was a first-year graduate student. She’s single and the attraction still seems to be there for both of us. We’ve agreed to take things slowly and see how it goes.”
“I’m really happy for you. I hate seeing you so down, and though you always put up a good front, I could see how lonely and unhappy you’ve been.” She glanced at her phone. “I wish I could stay and hear all about Constance, but I have a seven a.m. meeting tomorrow. Can we do this again very soon?”
Renee pulled Gina up into a hug. “Thanks for listening, for being honest, and for always supporting me. Have you ever wondered if we could have made it together?”
“I used to think about it from time to time but not since I’ve been with Beth. She’s definitely my future. But if you and I met today as the women we’ve become, we’d have a much better chance of making it than we had as college students.”
Renee helped her into her coat and they hugged again.
Gina whispered in Renee’s ear. “But between you and me, I sometimes miss being with the most perfectly gentlemanly woman I’ve ever met.” She kissed her lightly on the lips. “I’m always available to talk, even when I’m on the road. Call me.”
Renee watched her until the elevator doors closed.
Chapter Fourteen
“So I decided I wanted to see Constance. I took her to the opera Friday night. It was wonderful.”
Olivia didn’t comment so she continued. “It turned out she knew exactly why I’d run and she wasn’t angry. We talked a little about…us. She said she’d been in a state of suspended animation all those years with Nigel and I was bringing her back to life.” Renee felt herself getting emotional and took a moment to breathe and stay in control. “I’ve done the same thing. Lived in a state of suspended animation all my life, trying to protect myself but actually isolating myself and only half living. For a long time I only felt alive when I was having sex or when women were coming on to me. And yet, when things got too intense and the women wanted to get inside my wall, I used my love for Darcy to shut them down.” Renee held her breath trying to hold back the sobs pushing up from deep inside, but eventually she had no choice but to let go. She covered her face with her hands, doubled over in her chair and let the pain out. When she had no tears left, she looked up into Olivia’s sympathetic face. She sat back. “Sorry.”
Olivia smiled. “I’m not.” She shifted back in her chair. “How do you feel?”
“Better. But I didn’t know I felt bad.” She pulled a tissue out of the box on the table next to her and blew her nose. “It’s painfu
l to think I’ve willingly spent most of my life in an isolated bubble.”
“Do you understand why you made that choice?”
She considered the question. “It felt safer?” She thought that was it but she wasn’t sure and it came out as a question. She looked at Olivia for confirmation. Olivia nodded.
“I think I expect to be left so when I care for someone enough to be hurt by their leaving, I leave first.” She stared out the window, trying to work out why she was who she was.
Olivia let her stew for a minute then pulled her back to the session with questions. “Are you loveable, Renee? Do you think you deserve to be loved?”
She swiveled to Olivia. “Loveable? Isn’t everyone?” Her gaze went to the window again. She took a deep breath. “Maybe not.” The voices were so clear they could have been right there in Olivia’s office. But they weren’t. They were in her head. And had been for as long as she could remember. “The voices in my head don’t think so.”
“The voices?” Olivia sounded surprised. “What do they say?”
“One of them says, ‘Ugly white girl. Nobody will ever love you.’ The other says, ‘Nobody will love a white girl who’s really black.’”
“Whose voices are they?”
“Mine, I suppose.” She shrugged. “I’ve heard them forever.”
“Think, Renee.” Olivia leaned toward her. “This is important. Who could have put those thoughts in your head?”
She stared at her hands clasped tightly in her lap and let her mind wander, hoping it would find the answer. She closed her eyes, shutting the world out and listened. Pictures flitted through her mind. The voices echoed in her head. She sat straighter and looked at Olivia. “Remember I said neither side of my family was thrilled about my parents’ marriage. All my siblings have the same or lighter skin tone as my mom but I have my dad’s blue eyes and white skin.” She stared at her hands still clenched in her lap and made no attempt to dry the tears streaming down her face. “When I was about five years old I spent a day with my mom’s two sisters in New Jersey while she took care of some business. I overheard them talking about me. ‘Poor baby, looks white but is black. She won’t fit anywhere.’ And my three girl cousins who were older than me, followed me around saying over and over. ‘You aren’t black. You don’t belong in our family. Nobody will ever love an ugly white girl like you.’ When I told my mom, she said my cousins were jealous because I was so beautiful. But after less than forty-eight hours with her family, we left and moved to a hotel. That was the first and last time I saw my mom’s family other than my grandmother who visited us in Paris.”
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