by A. K. Rose
Cassie looked on with concern as her friend struggled to find her thought, to locate the right words to express her emotions. “You just what?”
“I just . . . I freaked out a little. All of a sudden, without warning, you were vulnerable and helpless and it scared me so much. And then Rachel showed up and it was clear that you needed her in that moment—you needed her more than you needed me—and that was scary too.”
“It’s okay, you know . . . I’m going to be okay. You don’t have to worry, really,” Cassie said, still not totally following her friend’s train of thought. She would be okay; it wasn’t up for debate anymore. She was healing physically and mentally. She and Jess hadn’t talked much since the accident, but then again, they hadn’t spent as much time together as usual since she’d met Rachel. It didn’t seem troubling, at least in Cassie’s mind. After all, when Jessica had a boyfriend, Cassie usually took the backseat in their friendship. The tables had turned, but not dramatically.
“I know you are, I know,” Jess started. This was hard. How had Cassie done it earlier in the fall? “It’s not that. It’s just . . . I’ve realized . . . I’ve been having these thoughts . . .”
“Okay?”
“Cass, for Christ’s sake, work with me. This is hard, you know?” Jessica had grabbed a throw pillow and was hugging it close to her chest, seeking comfort any way she could find it.
“What’s hard? I’m just not following you . . .”
Jess sighed audibly. She was going to have to spell it out. There wasn’t any way around it. She called on her most calm, most lawyerly composure, and just let it out. “I have been having feelings for you that are not exactly just friends feelings, okay? I don’t know how to reconcile them, I don’t know why, and it’s just . . . confusing. I left the hospital that day and just wandered in circles—I couldn’t even find my car. I can’t stop thinking about you. I can’t stop imagining things I’ve never imagined before. I had this crazy dream about you last night and it freaked me out.”
This was news.
And the timing was all wrong. Cassie knew in that instant what it was like to be on the other side of this conversation, and it was unsettling. Why now? She was in a great relationship, a healthy relationship. She was in love; she was planning a life with Rachel. They were talking about getting married, for crying out loud. And now—of all times—Jessica realized they might be good together.
“Jess . . . I . . .”
“I know.”
“Crap,” Cassie exhaled. “I don’t know what to say. I dreamed of this moment for so long; for so, so long. And now, well, you know now isn’t a good time. I mean, first of all, you’re straight, you know that right? You are. And a couple of months ago, I would’ve tried really hard to convince you otherwise. But it never works out, the straight girl’s experiment.”
“I know.”
“But, I can’t . . . I just . . . I can’t be your experiment. After our talk, I had to pick up the pieces of my life and move on, and I stumbled backwards into the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’m happy. I’m in love. We’re talking about getting married . . .”
That last bit was probably too much—a dagger to the heart of her friend who was already hurting, but Cassie couldn’t stop herself. She was in love. She was committed, and there was no way she was falling into this trap. Jessica was probably just lonely. She was having a grief reaction to the accident, to losing her friend to love, to not wanting to sit on the sidelines.
“I know,” Jessica said for the third time in succession. This conversation was indeed difficult, and she realized just how hard it must’ve been for Cassie that night at Alejandro’s. It must have been so hard for her to admit her feelings with no reciprocation whatsoever.
“That said, it was really brave of you to share this with me. It couldn’t have been easy . . .”
“It wasn’t,” Jess acknowledged, eyes focused on the edging of the pillow she was clenching, the knot in her stomach returning. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry. It’s never bad to hear someone has feelings for you, you know? But the timing is just all wrong, and anyway, you need to be looking for a drummer or a guitar player or . . .” Cassie didn’t get a chance to finish her sentence before lips were unexpectedly on hers, a jarring juxtaposition of softness and surprise in one kiss. It took a moment to realize what was happening, to try and regain her composure. “No . . .” she whispered, pushing her friend away. “Jess, no.” she managed with a firmer voice.
“I’m sorry,” Jessica echoed again, leaning back into the couch cushion and resuming her focus on the throw pillow. She was sorry. She didn’t know what came over her, but for some reason, she couldn’t help herself. She’d been selfish, once again, but had confirmed one important suspicion that her dream had provided her. She liked kissing Cassie. She liked kissing a woman. She thought back to her college days, when she’d experimented briefly in the sorority. Maybe there was something there that she hadn’t realized.
“It’s okay . . . I’m sorry too.” Cassie was now utterly confused. She’d thought of that moment quite a lot over the years, but never expected it to happen. The strange thing was, now she could only think of Rachel. This kiss only proved to her what she knew—she was madly in love, but not with Jessica. What to do now? It’s not like they could just pretend like it didn’t happen. Or could they? “It’s just that it took me a lot to get over you, you know? I almost blew something great with Rachel because I was so hung up on you. We weren’t meant to be, though, trust me. I know that now. Don’t worry about this, okay? We’re okay. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“I should go,” Jess said, standing up, tucking a few tendrils of loose hair behind her ear. She was going to have a hell of a time reconciling this visit, and had only herself to blame. What was she thinking? She and Cass were just getting back to a good place of friendship, and she had turned the tables this time. What was wrong with her? She’d had a weird dream and stupidly tried to make it come true in real life.
“Wait,” Cassie said with conviction, looking straight into her friend’s troubled eyes, green flecks reflecting the soft afternoon light coming through the windows. “We’re okay, okay? Chalk it up to curiosity, right?”
“Right, okay.”
“Hey—it’s okay, really.” Cassie tried to convince herself as much as she was trying to convince Jessica.
“Okay,” Jess mustered and then headed to the front door. She couldn’t get out of there fast enough. “I can let myself out—don’t get up. I’ll see you around.”
I’ll see you around? As Jess scurried out, Cassie was clouded with confusion. What had just happened? And why? Importantly, should she tell Rachel?
TWENTY-ONE
Cassie sat on the couch, stunned. Why now? Why, when she was so certain where her life was going, and how it was getting there, did Jessica show up and do what she did? She played it on an endless loop in her head, turning a coaster in her hands as she thought. She’d been so relaxed lately, probably due to the help of the painkillers she was weaning off, but now, the nervous hands were back in the mix. She knew her hands were her tell—she’d have to get this sorted out fast or Rachel would know something was wrong in an instant.
If this had happened three months ago—if it had happened a year ago—there would be no guilt. If Jessica had been even a little bit receptive when Cassie had feelings for her, well, the story would be completely different, a dream come true. But now, it was a nightmare. She was torn. If she told Rachel what happened, she risked destroying their relationship over something that meant nothing in the long run. If she didn’t tell Rachel, she risked the same, because she’d feel like a liar—lies of omission were still lies, the lawyer in her said.
Ordinarily, she’d hop in the car and drive, let the open road free her mind, guide her to what to do. She’d go to the lake, or to a hiking trail, and just let go of her thoughts. But, her leg was in a cast and she hadn’t been able to drive herself anywhe
re in weeks, much less go hiking. So, she stretched out on the couch, closed her eyes, and focused on breathing. In for four beats, out for four beats.
It wasn’t working. Her feelings had changed; she knew there wasn’t a future with Jess, but there was something about kissing her that hung in Cassie’s mind. It didn’t feel right, not like it felt when she was with Rachel. The shock of it all was just too hard to shake.
After half an hour of mediocre meditating, she knew what she had to do. There was really only one option. Cassie had to tell Rachel what happened. She knew she wanted a future with Rachel, and building that future on a lie—by omission or otherwise—wasn’t an option.
+ + +
“Can I see that one again?” Rachel asked, peering over a glass jewelry case. She’d been in the store a good thirty minutes, looking at rings, considering.
She knew it was fast. I’m a lesbian stereotype, she laughed to herself, thinking about how fast she moved Cassie into her house, and now this. She was seriously considering buying wedding bands. She knew Cassie wanted to get married; they’d talked about it in depth. They’d discussed their dream to move to the country, find some land, have animals, and take on a reduced lifestyle. They’d dreamed of long walks together and growing a garden and swinging on the porch swing, crickets chirping in the background.
It was fast, but it felt right.
When Elise left, Rachel didn’t think she’d fall in love again. Theirs was a stormy relationship; always had been. They loved hard and fought hard—there was no middle ground. No homeostasis. All chemistry, no compatibility. Elise pushed so hard for kids, but Rachel knew they didn’t have the kind of relationship that could sustain raising children. It was just too volatile. When she met Cassie, everything changed. There was passion, sure, but there was also companionship, and compatibility, and trust that they had a future together. Now, here she was, just a couple months later, seriously considering a marriage proposal.
“I’ll take two,” Rachel said, selecting a white gold band with a small embedded diamond in the center. Nothing too flashy, just a simple symbol of commitment. “I’ll need to get one of them sized later, okay?”
The shopkeeper nodded as he walked into his back storage room to see if he even had two of the bands she’d selected. He’d grown quite a reputation as an LGBT-friendly jeweler, and since the passing of same sex marriage equality, he had quite a run on many of the more popular bands. “Okay, you’re in luck,” he said, the waxed ends of his hipster mustache moving slightly as he spoke, “I have two of these. Would you like me to size one for you now?”
“That would be great. In fact, size them both for me, and I’ll run the risk that the other one will fit. If not, we can get it redone, right?”
“Sure thing. Let’s see, you look like about a size six,” he started, pulling out a ring sizer to confirm, sliding the metal loop around Rachel’s ring finger. “Yep, okay, give me about thirty minutes and I’ll have these ready for you.”
Rachel left the jewelry store with a smile on her face. She’d been thinking about how to propose for a while, and decided she’d do it on Christmas, which was the next week. She had it all planned. She’d make breakfast in bed, and put the two rings on a small plate in the middle of the tray, under a cover, as if they were a stick of butter. Then, she’d ask Cassie to pass her some butter, take off the cover, and reveal the rings. It would be perfect. In thirty minutes, she’d have the bands. Now, she just needed Christmas day to arrive.
+ + +
Jessica sat in a parking spot facing Lady Bird Lake, staring at the downtown Austin skyline. It was a gorgeous winter day, crisp and clear, the sun glinting on the lake at just the right angle as it set, the skyline starting to shimmer with the soft light of dusk. When she was in school, she came here to think, and she’d kept it as her getaway in the city all these years later. Usually, she was here because of a breakup, but today, it was something different altogether.
She couldn’t believe what had happened with Cassie. Never in her wildest dreams would she have predicted she’d do what she did. What got into her? Why on earth would she kiss Cassie, who was in a serious relationship? It didn’t make sense and she didn’t understand what was happening. She’d never been interested in women before. Sure, she’d fooled around a bit in college when she’d had too much Lone Star and lowered inhibitions, but it was never serious and not something she’d do when sober.
So, what changed? Why couldn’t she stop thinking about Cassie in a romantic sense? Could it be that she just wanted what she couldn’t have? Was she just jealous, or, was there more to the story?
Jess knew she was straight—at least she never questioned it, until now.
Now, she found herself thinking about what it would be like to hold Cassie close to her. To kiss her deeply, to have her hands on her body in ways that didn’t seem very appropriate for friends. She wanted to find out what Cassie meant when she said you didn’t need a man to be satisfied in bed.
It didn’t matter, she knew, because Cass was in love. She seemed happier than ever; her attention and devotion was on Jessica’s dentist, of all people.
I still need to get a new dentist, she thought aloud, the sound of her own voice filling the empty space in her car. She sat there, thinking, resolving to put this little incident behind her, and to try and patch up her friendship with Cassie, again.
It seemed like ten minutes, but in reality, over an hour had passed and Jessica didn’t have any answers. So, she called Steve from work to see if he’d go have a drink with her. Steve was so even-keeled; he’d be a good sounding board. He’d help her out of this confusing dilemma. His only requirement was that they meet at a gay bar. His latest boyfriend was a bartender, so he wanted to swing by and say hello.
TWENTY-TWO
“Okay, spill it,” Steve said, leaning against a battered wooden bar, nursing a Corona. He raised his eyebrow in her direction, an indication he knew something was up. He just didn’t know what.
It took Jessica a moment to come back to the moment, her gaze was far off, focused in the distance on the band setting up for a set later. “Where to start . . .” she sighed, taking a long draw on a Lone Star, still her beer of choice. “Okay, so I have a situation with Cassie.”
“She’s the one that was in love with you, right?”
“Yep.”
“And, you’re coming around on that, huh?”
“How the hell . . .” Jessica started, but couldn’t even finish her sentence.
“You have this deer in the headlights look I’ve never seen on you. You look like you’ve seen a ghost and a train wreck at the same time. What happened?”
Jessica continued to stare straight ahead, past Steve’s boyfriend the bartender, past the random crowd milling around, and focused again on the band fidgeting with cords and cables, moving drums, tuning guitars. It was just your average house band—drummer, rhythm guitarist, lead guitarist, bass player. She couldn’t stop looking at the bass player, though. That’s interesting, she thought, taking in the fact that she was captivated by a woman in a band. That’s new. Infatuations with band members were nothing new, but this particular observation was very new. Maybe it wasn’t Cassie. Maybe, just maybe . . .
“Jess? Hey,” Steve was snapping his fingers in front of Jessica’s face to get her attention. She’d zoned out mid-sentence. He had no idea what was going on.
“Oh, sorry. Yeah, so, Cassie. I had this dream, Steve, it was the weirdest thing,” Jessica said, and then caught a quick glance of the bass player before continuing. “I had this dream that I kissed Cassie, and I liked it. But, I didn’t leave it at that. I went over there, to her girlfriend’s house where she’s recovering from the accident.”
“And?”
“And I kissed her. I have no idea what I was thinking. It was just so out of character. So not me, you know?”
Steve wasn’t all that surprised, not really. He knew Jessica liked to be the center of attention, he knew she had a need to be
needed—that she’d start dreaming about her best friend after an admission of interest wasn’t really all that shocking. He’d seen stranger things, that was for sure. “And then what?”
“And then what, what?”
“What happened? Did she kiss you back? Did you like it? How did you leave it?”
“Oh Steve. I screwed up so much. She’s in a relationship with my dentist, of all people. They’re pretty serious, they’re in love, I guess. She stopped me and then I just got the hell out of there, as fast as I could.”
“Did you like it?” He wasn’t going to stop pressing on this question, clearly.
Jessica hesitated. She liked it, she did. What did that mean? She had no clue. “Yeah, I did.”
“Ah, okay,” Steve nodded. His friend was confused and slightly panicked. What he said next would be incredibly important. “So, have you ever thought, maybe . . .”
“Never. I’ve never even considered it, you know? I’ve always been with men, except for a few drunken times in college, but I never thought much of it until now,” Jessica admitted, the wheels turning in her head with such velocity she couldn’t keep her thoughts straight.
“Yeah, I know. But, here’s the thing,” Steve said, “you keep checking out that bass player. I know when you’re doing it, you know? I’ve seen you check out enough musicians. You have a tell.”
“I do?” Jess was shocked. She had no idea she had a tell. But the truth was, she had been checking out the bass player. The female bass player.
“Yep, you do. You tilt your head to the left when you’re interested in someone. It’s so predictable. It’s kind of cute, even.”
“Shit, Steve. Don’t you think I’d know this by now? Don’t you think I’d know if I was gay by my age? It doesn’t make a lot of sense.” Jessica was peeling the label of her beer by now, scraping the adhesive with her fingernail, leaving a bit of chipped red nail polish on the bottle as she did.