The One That Ran Away

by Hildred Billings

  Shannon blow-dried her hair so it was as feathery as the day Jess first saw her. Light eyeliner and lip-gloss finished her outfit before she stepped into her knee-high boots and grabbed her purse. A light chill hit her on the way out the door, and she retreated inside to grab a jacket.

  The walk to the teashop was filled with anxious trepidation. Shannon rehearsed what she wanted to say to Jess when she saw her sitting in her reserved alcove. “I’m so sorry. Can we please start over again?” “Mind reading my fortune? Please play nice!” “So, turns out my best friend is gay and really mad about it. Sound familiar?” “Look, I owe you an explanation about what happened senior year.”

  All of those words went out the window when she stepped into the teashop, and there Jess was, bent over her tarot cards.

  Years later, Shannon would sigh to remember that moment. “She was so peaceful, so beautiful. You can’t tell now, but back then she had the softest skin and the kind of curves you wanted to grab where she sat. The way she bit her lip when she considered her fate and what to do about it made all the girls in town shake in their rainboots.” Yet in that moment, with the low lights of the café shining above her and the low murmur of intimate conversations echoing between the closed-in walls, Shannon Parker was pulled by nothing but the bells of destiny sounding in the distance.

  She sat in the seat across from Jess. When those blue eyes looked up, they were filled with cautious disbelief. And awe. Awe that such a beautiful woman could be sitting across from her. That’s me. I’m beautiful. She thinks I’m so beautiful that she fell in love with me the moment she saw me.

  “What do you…”

  “I want you to come back with me to my place,” Shannon said, interrupting her. “Right now. It has to be right now.”

  Jess sat up, dropping the tarot card in her hand.

  The Lovers.

  Chapter 17

  Jess

  It was the last bastion of feeling like a young, naïve girl. The last chance Jess had to throw caution to the wind and believe in fate and love for one brief but hot second.

  Yet because she didn’t trust Shannon Parker with the last inch of their lives, Jess refused to take the lead. She couldn’t stand the thought of making a fool of herself. Not tonight. Not like this.

  Not when she gave up her precious tips at the teahouse to come home with the woman she had been in love with since she was twenty.

  That love had never gone away. It may have been dormant, particularly after Jess forced herself to move on and get on with her life, but a love like she felt for Shannon never disappeared. Thoughts of her brought both terror and warmth. Terror that it had been a lie, and that a woman could so carelessly throw someone away like that. Warmth, because it was one of the best things to ever happen to her.

  Perhaps that was sad. Maybe it was troublesome. That didn’t make it any less true.

  Jess stood in the darkened entrance of Shannon’s apartment. Keys landed in a basket. Shoes came off. Shannon wasted no time coming for Jess’s lips, like she hadn’t wasted any precious seconds on the bridge not so long ago.

  This time, however, Jess would not run away. She would have to be pushed out the door. Insulted. Humiliated. The clue stick would have to be big enough to split her head open, too. Because now that Shannon was pressed up against her, kissing her, pushing hands up her shirt and grabbing her breasts, Jess was incapable of sane thought.

  This was better than their one night together in college. Better than any other time with any other person, and all they had done so far was make-out in the tiny foyer of a renovated apartment in Nob Hill. The age of the building curled around Jess’s nose before all she could smell was Shannon’s sweet breath and the perfume on her throat.

  “Is this really happening?” Jess muttered between kisses. “Or am I dreaming?”

  Shannon pulled her off the wall, hands on her ass and tongue in her ear. “If you’re dreaming, then we’re in the same dream, Jess.”

  Damn!

  They wandered toward the bedroom, although Jess’s need for reassurance constantly popped up whenever they exchanged a tentative kiss or brushed their hands against each other’s bodies. Every touch was an electrifying instance. Every kiss was an amnestic drug that dragged Jess farther into the realms of insanity. Kiss more. Forget more. Dare to believe that the world would be kinder to her this time. That it would be kinder to Shannon, who had clearly dealt with some demons over the past few years.

  It wasn’t Jess’s job to make her forget. It wasn’t her job to be or do anything.

  So why was she so insistent on passing this performance review? Why was it so imperative to remind Shannon what it was like to have a good time? A blessed occasion of two women reminding each other who they were – because fate had gone out of its way to make them meet again?

  There is no fate. There is nothing but chance. Even astrology wasn’t about divination anymore. The modern astrologers had given up. Alchemists couldn’t turn lead into gold, and fortune tellers couldn’t divine the future.

  No fate. Only chance.

  Only one more chance to make this right.

  Shannon shoved her down onto the bed and was on top of her before raindrops hit the window. The harder it rained, the faster the clothes came off. Like she hadn’t cared eight years ago, Jess also didn’t care now that Shannon’s breath and body belonged to a woman constantly fighting with bad habits. Those lips could roam wherever they wanted. Taste the essence of a woman who had been in love so hard that the inevitable end of the whirlwind romance left her bitter and cold. Thread her fingers through hair and touch the tips of Jess’s fingers until their hands were interlaced, palms touching, knuckles knocking against the headboard as bodies came together in that endless union of limbs and lips.

  Once upon a time, Shannon Parker hadn’t been afraid to put her mouth on a woman and discover what it meant to indulge in the sexual escape only another woman could offer. She wasn’t afraid now, either. Any trace of fear that she had harbored for the past decade had been banished with the coming rain, washed away until all the remained was the raw, heedless devotion to do what felt good and right.

  Jess knew she was doomed when she no longer cared what might happen afterward or how her heart might be broken now that this siren had hooked her fangs into her again. I’ll sacrifice myself to this torture for the rest of my life if it means getting to have one pure minute with her. She thought she had that eight years ago, in the cramped bedroom in a campus apartment, one month before the final semester of their college careers.

  Endless potential had laid before them. Even if they never saw each other again after college, they would’ve had that. That. The beginning of the rest of their lives.

  Instead, everything had ended prematurely. A cold fact that hit Jess when she was wrapped in Shannon’s naked arms, kissing her lips and throat with the devotion of a woman who wanted to seduce angels.

  I’ll never forget how you made me feel. The shit, the good, the in between when Jess accepted her love as a test of her becoming an adult. I’ll never forget when you crossed the line from the impetus of my sexuality to the heartbreaker I never wanted.

  Shannon clamped her lips upon Jess’s and came for the last glow of her soul. This was the woman who had the power to snuff out the inner fire barely alive inside of Jess’s heart. Like a fool, Jess let her near it.

  ***

  Memory #17

  The only thing keeping my sanity at the start of my final semester was knowing I would see Shannon again. Throughout Christmas break, I told myself that she wasn’t my girlfriend. We had hooked up, and there was no point indulging in damaging fantasies.

  Then I returned to campus and was renewed with the memories of how far we had come. How we had traversed the awkward road from mere acquaintances to full-fledged lovers.

  Even if Shannon came through the student café doors to say she didn’t think she was into a relationship with me, but we could still be friends, I’d be happy. Being w
ith her had filled me with so much happiness that I could sustain myself on that joy for the rest of my twenties. I was a cheerier, more optimistic version of myself. I sang pop songs with gusto. I high-fived every friend I saw, even those I hadn’t spoken to in months.

  I was more in love than ever, wasn’t I? Which is why it hurt so damn much when I waited for Shannon for over two hours. I had been half an hour early, but by 8:30 I wanted to cry.

  She wasn’t coming, was she?

  I held it in. I told myself that there was an explanation, like there had been an explanation for her missing our birthday date. I wish I had her number. Later, I would give anything for her to respond to my email asking where the hell she was. Shannon had completely disappeared from campus. Her roommates wouldn’t tell me what happened. I knew nothing about the department she was in and really didn’t want to come off as a stalker by swinging by and asking questions about her.

  Except I didn’t know all that yet. Deep down, I think I knew I wouldn’t see her again. Yet that night in the coffee shop, where I sat on an old couch surrounded by the aroma of coffee and baked goods, I saw the last of my hope flash before my eyes. She wasn’t coming. It had been stupid of me to believe she would ever find me again. That she had ever cared. Maybe she had been using me. I didn’t care if she used me… I only wanted her to be honest about it.

  I had loved her enough to deserve that.

  “Hey, you’re Jess, right?”

  A guy from one of my classes sat in the chair next to me. The way he leveled his gaze on me suggested he had smelled a vulnerable, desperate co-ed from a mile away. The worst kind of guy.

  I hadn’t cared.

  I don’t know why I went back to his room that night. To stick it to Shannon, I guess. I was petty and heartbroken enough that I wanted her to come looking for me, only to discover that I thought her forgettable and inconsequential enough to dump for a guy.

  God knew that’s how I would feel eight years later when our paths crossed again.

  ***

  “That’s how I ended up depressed after that fuckface did a number on me.” Jess passed Shannon’s joint back to her. Pot smoke had filled the bedroom. The window was slightly open – enough to let the smoke filter out, but not enough to let in all the cold air. “Spent most of my twenties trying to recover from the abusive mind games he pulled with me. Can you believe it? I was with him for a whole two, three months, and I spent five years getting over him.”

  “Men are toxic.” Shannon enjoyed a hit before rolling her naked body toward Jess’s. They had long disentangled since Shannon had gone to the bathroom no fewer than two times. The first time to use the toilet – the second to dive into her secret stash of “the good stuff” not even her ex-boyfriend had known about. She only brought it out when she had something to celebrate. Jess was only a little smug that Shannon would consider them hooking up again something to celebrate. “Ask me about my string of male exes.”

  “Why did we do that to ourselves?”

  “I dunno, Jess, you’re the one who knows more about queer theory than I do. If I say forced heteronormativity, does that mean anything to you?”

  Maybe it was the pot, but Jess laughed so hard that her ribs ached and she worried she’d make a mess in Shannon’s warm bed. “Why is that so funny?”

  “You tell me,” Shannon said with a grin. She propped herself up on her arm and continued to puff on her joint. “You know what? Those dudes are in the past. No more Andrew. No more… what was his name… Nick. I think that was his name.”

  “It was.”

  It was also Shannon’s turn to laugh. “You know my history better than I do.”

  “Did you actually like being with any of those guys?”

  Shannon considered that with a forlorn look. “There were enough good moments to make me think it was good enough, if that makes sense. Definitely wasn’t all bad. I also wasn’t ever happy. I think I’m gonna get a therapist. Do you have a therapist?”

  “No.”

  Shannon laid her joint down. “Maybe we should both get one. Like… couple’s counseling.”

  Jess wasn’t falling for that. “We’re not a couple just because we stuck our fingers in each other’s pussies.”

  “We’re not? Thought that was part of the code, like flannel and Birkenstocks.”

  “Don’t make fun of my style.”

  Shannon laughed again. Her whole chest jiggled with every huff of mirth, and Jess decided to commit the image to memory. Who knew when she would see something so lovely again?

  “I’m only half serious,” Shannon said. “Maybe I’m not opposed to having a relationship with you.”

  “I’m a woman, you know.”

  “And? That doesn’t bother me.”

  “Anymore, huh?”

  Shannon continued to grin as she reflected upon that. Pot is a helluva drug, huh? It affected Shannon differently from Jess, who barely felt the effects. Then again, she took exactly one hit. Maybe it took a while to come. Maybe she had that much of a tolerance, not that she regularly touched the stuff. “You know how it is when you’re younger. New shit you’ve never thought about before is scary. You came into my life, and suddenly ‘lesbianism’ was a thing.”

  “You don’t have to be a lesbian, you know.”

  “I know.” This time, Shannon’s laugh was more infectious. “That’s the most freeing thing, isn’t it? I don’t have to dwell upon it. It is what it is… we can be whatever we want in the moment.”

  Jess wasn’t laughing. “As long as what you are doesn’t conflict with what the other person wants.”

  Shannon’s fingers slowly ascended Jess’s arm. Her touch felt like a torrent of butterfly kisses hitting Jess’s skin. “We can take things slow. Hang out, you know? Do some fun stuff. Friends with benefits?”

  “I would want more than that.” Friends with benefits sounded fun when love wasn’t involved. The moment Jess saw Shannon going out with someone else, her heart would once more be irreparably damaged. “I want a girlfriend, not a fling.”

  Shannon was quiet for a moment. “Maybe that’s what I want, too. I’m saying it doesn’t have to be super serious until it feels right. No U-hauling it, or whatever the lesbos are supposed to do.”

  “Again, stop making fun of my style.”

  Shannon laughed.

  “You can make all the promises you want right now, Shan,” Jess continued. “But how do I know you’ll still feel the same way tomorrow? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice?” She couldn’t stop thinking about how defeated she felt in that student café. The bar had been bad enough. But that? No. I can’t go through that again. “You already ran away once. I’m too old to bear that kind of sadness again.” She had barely survived the last round.

  Shannon wrapped her arms around her naked legs. “Then let’s end things here for now.”

  Those words almost killed Jess.

  “You’re right. I can sit here and tell you how much I’ve changed and how much I want to proceed with my life as the freest version of me possible. Yet why should you believe me? I’ve been cruel to you in the past. There’s only one thing to do.”

  “Go on.”

  “After tonight, we won’t see each other. Not on purpose.” Shannon winked at Jess, insinuating that hadn’t stopped them before. “If it really is fate… if we’re really meant to be together, then we’ll both be in Couch Park on April Fool’s Day.”

  “Why Couch Park?”

  “It’s where I was when I first realized I had some feelings for you. It has the best energy.”

  “You’re starting to sound like me.”

  “Maybe that’s a good thing.”

  Jess didn’t deny the kiss coming for her lips. The way Shannon’s tongue caressed her lover’s lips made Jess wonder if this was the last kiss she would ever savor for the rest of her life. Shannon was as good as a ghost. For all Jess knew, this whole night had been nothing but a cold apparition.

  She better make sure to kiss
Shannon harder. Nobody needed to know how much Jess wanted her more than this otherworldly woman.

  APRIL FOOL’S DAY

  Jess had made peace with her fate. When she sat on a bench in Couch Park on April Fool’s Day, she had already accepted that Shannon wasn’t coming. She was all right with that.

  Maybe it was because it was such a beautiful day. Maybe it was the new client she had picked up for over two grand a month, just to write an article a day about her favorite topics. Or maybe it was deciding to cast off the shit from her twenties and go farther into her thirties with the hope that she would be all right, if even for a little while.

  She hadn’t seen Shannon since leaving her apartment a fortnight ago. Shannon didn’t drop by the teashop when Jess was usually there. She didn’t frequent the other coffee shops, Powell’s, or the bus lines they had in common. No text messages. No voicemails. The only glimpse Jess thought she caught of her was at Trader Joe’s one rainy Friday night. Yet the apparition had disappeared as quickly as it appeared. As usual, Jess was seeing things.

  Maybe Shannon had never existed at all. Wouldn’t that have been a twist? Or maybe she had existed, but not in Portland. How was Jess supposed to know? Unless she saw her lover again?

  The only reason she showed up early that sunny afternoon was because her cards had implored her to “go out and take risks.” The question in her heart had been simple. “Do I give Shannon another chance?” The past card had suggested Shannon had hurt her before, and there was no guarantee it wouldn’t happen again. The present acknowledged the current conflict raging in Jess’s heart. The future? “If you don’t risk your heart once in a while, then what use is love? It’s not supposed to come easily.”